The Realms of Thrice
by stringsonthisguitar
Summary: "If you could have anything … anything at all … never mind the realm's boundaries, what would you want?" Emma whispered to the fallen Queen. "Happiness," Regina spoke. "To be happy ... for once in my life. I want that and all it entails." This is a journey of love, redemption, self-discovery, and forgiveness. Swan Queen AU.
1. Prologue

**AN: This was a story I have been working on for the past year. When I started writing it, I was really influenced by the character depth and interactions between Emma and Regina. Whereas this type of story has been done numerous times by so many others, this was just something I simply wanted to write. My own take on a story I wanted to tell. This will primarily be Emma and Regina; just a few other select OUAT characters will be involved. This is a story between Emma and Regina and the internal / emotional battles they contend with that made them who they are in this story.**

**All that being said, this story is definitely AU, but if you choose to read on, I hope you enjoy it. No beta so all mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer: The only things I don't own are the character names used in OUAT. Everything else belongs to me.**

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**Prologue**

_**Twenty-four years past, in the year of 1e90 on the 89th day of The Shine of Night.**_

The large spherical room appeared lifeless and unwelcoming as they led her forth, hands bound by an unseen force. Her feet were shackled as well, but again weightless and mute with her step. Her usual long raven hair which framed her face was tied back and the remainder of her hair flowed freely against her back. An involuntary shiver racked her body as the coldness of the room enveloped her completely. The gravity of her current predicament probably didn't easy her body's response. The sound of her bare feet upon the marble ground was the only sound except for the occasional brush and ruffle of clothing.

The guards on either side of her moved in silence, resolute in their steps. They stopped without warning, and the young woman had just enough time to survey her surroundings. The great room was exquisitely carved floor to ceiling from the finest of pale marble. The spherical design was both modern and regal, yet it held a certain impersonal atmosphere. It was no wonder because many never saw, nor wished to see these walls.

Her body shook once again from the frigid temperature of the room. Her thin white tunic failed to retain her warmth and the delicate solid gold bracelets around each wrist suddenly burned at her skin. It was surprising that her breath had not yet materialized in the thin air.

"Please, do step forward," a calm voice spoke quietly, yet echoed throughout the large chamber.

The guards eased their grip on her arm and gently pushed her forward until she faced an imposing figure. He was seated at the center marble chair; the royal family sat at either side of him. His distant golden eyes focused on hers for but a minute before he stood and gracefully flick his wrist free of his sleeve. With the movement, her hands and feet were instantly unbound, and she rubbed her wrist gratefully.

"Miss Nolan," he began; his voice steadfast and calm. "Do you understand why it is you are here … why you now stand in front of the High Council?" he asked.

She tried to remain calm as her pulse quickened and her bottom lip quivered with anxiety. She lowered her head as she spoke, "I do."

"And do you realize such an act is grounds for immediate banishment?"

"It was an accident—"

"Premature death by the hands of another, whether deliberate or not, is murder, Miss Nolan, I would have expected you to understand this concept considering your age and … _occupation_." He spat the last word with much disdain. How were laws and values supposed to be taught to children when their own mentors disregarded them with such blatant actions? "Regardless, I'm certain you understand both the gravity of your actions, and the punishment for such. Therefore, this council has already drawn the necessary conclusion, as well as the punishment." He finished quickly as he looked passed her and nodded toward the guards.

Her breathing hastened as they both took hold of her arms and began to lead her to a hollowed out section of wall. She locked eyes with the condemner and pleaded silently with him, but his eyes never gave a gleam of hope. Instead it was the same cold expression he had always held.

The guards directed her to the center of the small hollow and released her yet again before stepping back.

Tears that had managed to stay concealed, where now flowing freely against her fair cheeks. The gold bands against her wrists vibrated violently until her hands were forcibly lifted and drawn to the golden grab bars on the side of the wall. Now contained, she felt like a feral beast awaiting its punishment by lashing. However, her punishment would be far worse than a simple, inhuman and uncivilized lashing.

This was only the beginning, and fear now raged within her. She was not beyond begging. "Please have mercy, Your Grace. I am with child," she pleaded.

Unfazed by her declaration, he continued his pace toward her. His elegant and bright white robes swayed with his step. The gold sash that decorated those same robes glistened in the natural light that spilt through the numerous skylights.

He approached her sobbing form as he reached out and touched the golden bracelets on each of her wrists with the tip of his forefinger; his eyes never once making contact with her own. The bracelets separated and fell to the floor with a metallic ring. Her hands, however, remained bound to the grab bars. Only then did he look at her.

He took a step back and then spoke, "Then your actions have condemned that child," he stated loud enough for the other occupants of the room to hear. "You know our laws … and the punishment for breaking such. What example do we send to all others when we allow the transgressions of one to pass? We would be just like the other realms—allowing and tolerating mediocrity when we are destined to be the best … the greatest. Your heart and soul are now tainted with darkness … therefore … you are no longer welcomed by the White Realm." He stated calmly as he approached her yet again and lifted his frail hand to touch his thumb against the center of her forehead.

"Please … it was an accident." She continued to beg as a slightly unpleasant feeling began to form within her eyes. This was the final step as all identification of her time spent in The White Realm was quickly erased. What was granted at birth over thirty years previous and what took years to create, was now being wiped away within a matter of seconds. One misdeed, one misfortune, had cost her everything. Silently, as the sensation within her eyes intensified, she prayed to Eira, the Goddess of Mercy, that her time spent forth on would be forgiving, but where she was going, the worship of such Gods and Goddess were banned.

Suddenly, a cold voice broke her inner thoughts as he stared into her eyes. Long gone was her once beautiful golden iris's that had been much like his own. Now they were colorless, waiting to be filled with the mark and color of the oncoming realm.

"Mary Margaret Nolan, daughter of Eva and Leopold of Whitewood, you are convicted of the slaying of David Nolan, your husband. By order of the White Council, and with my breath, I, Santor Whiteborn, Demigod of the White Realm, sentence you and your unborn child, on this, your thirtieth name day to The Black Realm." He recited evenly as his thumb stayed in placed upon her forehead, and his forefinger twitching in anticipation. "May the Gods above and beyond give you light in the dark times ahead." Santor concluded as he prolonged the inevitable for but a moment longer. The ruffling of cloth could be heard over the roar in her ears, and she knew the time had come. The royal family had now stood signifying their last respects, or perhaps not, for their fallen citizen. It was a show of regret, not pity or mercy. In their eyes, she was nothing more than another helpless soul lost to the darkness of the other world. She was yet another lesson to be learnt from. Good always triumphs over evil.

With no prior warning, he touched his forefinger to her temple, connecting the arc, and in an instant, she was no longer a resident of The White Realm.

* * *

Once upon a time, in a reality far apart from our own, there were three realms: one of light, one of dark, and one of gray. These three kingdoms would represent concepts of good, evil, and the objective. The White Realm would house those of pure nature and heart. They upheld strict moral and ethical values and believed those who violated such moral laws should be banished to the other realms. Once a heart or soul was tainted with evil, there was no redemption. They were long lost and forgotten. Therefore, they were most likely to be sent to The Black Realm as evil was seen as just that—evil.

The Black Realm housed those with impure hearts or souls. They had commented some form of misdeeds that were seen as unacceptable and morally wrong in The White Realm, or less common, The Gray Realm. They led a life of suffering and struggle. Happiness was not something chased nor longed for. This was the realm for lost and desperate souls. It was a realm for the suffering.

Finally, The Gray Realm represented the best of human nature—acceptance and tolerance, especially to those who might be seen as different. In this Realm, neither good nor bad were seen in purely white or black. People and their character were as different and varied as the very fingerprints they kept. Instead of seeing in purely monotone colors, they chose to see all variations in between.

Because there was such a divide in all three realms, an agreement was made to form a council that would represent all three kingdoms in one universal and unbiased setting. This council would become known as The Council of Thrice, and held the highest ambassadors of each Realm. Transcendent Portals were placed in the capitol of each kingdom, but only The White Realm could transcend freely to the others. The Realm of Black and the Realm of Gray had no access except to each other. This was signed as an inter-realm agreement to keep the Realms pure, especially The White. The Spheric Sanctum was the guarded chambers where the Demigods and other sovereignty members resided and handed out sentencing. It was also the location of the guarded Transcendent Portals.

Despite the clashing views of each kingdom, there was but a small ounce of hope. A divine prediction was written by the nineteen Gods of Thrice that one child would be born into one of the three kingdoms of Thrice, but would transcend all realms and ultimately unite all into one, merging light and darkness together for the first time since creation. This child was not seen as a prophet, but merely a messenger of hope and redemption for all of humanity. They would show that evil was not born, but rather created through the struggles and suffering of life. The worlds, and all who inhabit them, were neither dark nor light, but all variants in between. So began the Realms of Thrice.

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In an adjacent kingdom, shadows were quickly encompassing every crease, crevice, and every alleyway and corner. Night had fallen, and with that always came the shroud of evil. The moon, despite shining ever so brightly, did little to lighten the spirits of fellow people, or their homes. Where there was light, darkness was sure to follow and chase it away with vengeance.

The townspeople of Gravens, as well as inhabitants in the surround city limits, were already locked away within the perceived safety of their homes. For the unfortunate many who wandered the streets, the air was thick and rancid with rotting fish from the catches of previous days at the bay. A heavy, lung seizing smoke also filled the air from the many fireplaces that heated and lit the massive palace not but a few paces away from homes and shops.

Keen eyes watched from the safety of the palace balcony located several floors up as they followed a cloaked figure as it moved in and out of the shadows below. The woman perched at the edge of the balcony, smirked in delight at the mischief about to be committed. In truth, as Queen of the Dark, she should be notifying her guards at arm of the suspicious behavior, but she would not. Why? Because what was the Black Kingdom without a little mischief running amok. The corners of her lips turned upwards, relieving a sickening smile, as she leaned against the concrete railing, arms spread apart in a power pose. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she allowed her head to recline backward ever so slightly.

The night was growing late as her body screamed for needed sleep. She, begrudgingly, was still in her evening wear, not yet having the time or desire to change into something far more comfortable. Her nettlesome daughter had just been put to bed by her nursemaid because she simply did not have the patience to deal with such foolish obligations such as bedtime stories or motherly bonding time while tucking a brat into bed. No, she had far more important tasks at hand, and by the telltale nearing steps outside her chamber doors, she knew one of those was about to come to light. Sure enough, three loud knocked were placed upon the wood doors each exactly one second apart.

The Queen moved from her place at the balcony and entered the chamber common room through the parlor doors. She smoothed the silken material of her dress with her hands as she beckoned the impending visitor to enter.

One heavy door was opened slightly as a thin and frail man stepped forth. He was donning a black robe with a long, unkempt and dingy gray beard that looked as if it had years of stains, knots, mead, and particles of food mashed within its course strands. He had a slight hunch in his back around his shoulders, and he walked with a severe limp in his right leg. His cane clicked methodically against the stone with each labored step. His breath coming out in harsh gasps. A result of bad lungs from years of working in the crematories as a lad.

"Your Majesty," he greeted as he bowed as far as his back would allow. He waited patiently with his head down and eyes up for her signal to continue. With a single wave of her hand, he spoke again. "It has begun." The Queen's constable, Drago, stated as he stepped into the spacious room.

"Excellent," she acknowledged. A wicked grin marred her otherwise attractive features. She turned swiftly from her place and moved back to the edge of the large balcony, as her elegant and elaborate dress flowed effortlessly with her movement. She stood still as she contemplated her next move. Long manicured nails tapped in a rhythmic motion atop the railing as she stared straight forward into the night, her lips pursed in thought. "Why don't we give our new resident a proper greeting? She must feel welcomed after all." She stated with much contempt as she turned on spot to face her trusted constable.

"Of course, Your Majesty. We are most known for our gracious hospitality," the old man stated. His voice gruff.

"Indeed," she confirmed with a menacing grin. "It's quite comical."

"Your Majesty?"

"Those in The White Realm see themselves as pure beings with a sound moral heart. But their own Demigod would father a child through a married woman and then banish both his lover and unborn child. Morality at its finest. But his loss is our gain. We will have a powerful Whiteborn Demigod at our service soon enough, mark me. Then they will know the true wrath of The Black Realm when we march into their Sanctum with one of their own by our side … willing to fight to the death for this beloved kingdom. Yes, the White and Gray will finally see how we are. We will finally gain the true nature of our name. They think us below them, but this will undo it all. We will show them that The Black is a force to be reckoned with."

"A brilliant plan, Your Majesty."

"You're excused now. I'll be down shortly to see to our new member." The Queen instructed as she turned back to gaze across the dark cityscape.

* * *

Her head was spinning as she opened her eyes and was confronted with an eerily dark and damp space. The walls were composed of old chipped cobblestone that had turned black with splotches of green from the filth and grime of the world. Her breaths were quick, but she inhaled the stagnant and heavily damp air. It smelt of mildew and damp, rotten wood. She glanced around from her current place, noticing the fine sheen of condensation coating the stone floor and walls. Several torches were lit and braced against the supporting walls and a small wooden table and chairs were crammed in the far left corner. To her right, was another small table with various tools, liquid concoctions, and metal fittings. Not to mention the sickening stains of blood which had seeped into the course grains of the wood. She had nothing to compare to her current experience. For the second time in no more than a few hours, she truly feared. In The White, fear was not something often felt, at least not realistic fears. Maybe fears evolving around status or keeping appearances, perhaps even pleasing parents or other elites of the community. But this was unlike anything else. This was genuine heart-stopping, throat constricting fear. The type of fear often experienced by young children awaking to a dark room from an all too real nightmare. For them, the fear is as true as a mother's word.

Her breaths quickened to an unreasonable state. Panic was hurriedly settling in. Her stomach turned violently as it threatened to heave up what little contents remained. Her sight blurred as tears gathered within her eyes. She must have been transported to the dungeons. Fitting perhaps. The few torches that were lit were enough to illuminate the space and ward off any reservations about the dark, but the ghosts of shadows taunted her. Moving with the flames of the torches, like that of a dance between friend and foe. One giving and one taking, step after step, moving seamlessly and in tune with the other.

However, her attention was swiftly gained at the sound of approaching footsteps. The faint click of a metal object against the stone floor echoed through the numerous tunnels with ease. Her heart's pace quickened at the sounds and her whole body seized up, silent. Not a muscle, limb, inhale or exhale of air was made. The only movement came from her eyes as they scanned the lone doorway rapidly, twitching in a sense, and the sweat gathering at her brow and small of her back. Finally a figure walked through with a black metal cane supporting his right side. A guard not too far behind.

"Ah, here she is," the Governor spoke sickly as he pointed his cane in her direction. "She's a beauty," he said to his guard. "You'll stick out like a sore thumb here. It's not too often we're graced with the presence of one from The White. You must have committed an atrocious act."

He approached her with a malicious smile exposing his yellow and crooked teeth. He tossed his cane upwards with one hand, catching it a few inches below the handle and used it as a tool to poke and prod at her body, examining every inch of her. The top of the handle rested underneath her chin, lifting her head to look at him.

His blood shot eyes and red iris scanned her face, and proceeded lower until they fell upon her barely protruding belly.

"Oh," he said with malicious delight, his eyes widening and a sadistic smirk stretching across his deformed face, "and she is with child," he stated in awe. It was one thing to be told of such, but to actually see a plan at work was something completely different. A sense of victory was felt within his blackened heart. He reached out to place his hands upon her belly.

"Don't touch me!" she spat forcefully, but the quiver of her lip betrayed her.

"Being the marking process," he instructed to the guard that had remained stationed at the door entry way. "Our Majesty will be down shortly—"

"I am here!" the Queen greeted as she gleefully motioned to her being with her delicate hand, yet the wicked smirk painting her flawless face deceived her jovial tone.

She was dressed in a fine evening gown of crimson taffeta with black velvet embossing and edging. Her raven hair was pulled back from her face and her eyes were dark. The dress fit her immaculately, accentuating her womanly curves. But the red of the dress brought out her striking eyes. Despite Mary Margaret's terror, she couldn't ignore the simple fact, that the woman, the Queen, entering the room, was enchantingly beautiful. Her posture, clothing, and aura spoke volumes of her title and also of her heartless qualities. She was beauty, and with that came all the power of the world. There was no doubt she used it in her favor.

She strolled up to Mary Margaret with her head held high, and her eyes never once faltering. "I do apologize for not sending you to one of our finer transpondents. I imagine you're used to more glamorous settings," the Queen stated as she gripped the woman's chin with long fingers, polished nails digging into her flesh. Red eyes searched out colorless, awaiting them to make contact. "However, the marking process can be quite … _messy_ here. If you understand. We wouldn't want to ruin the finer parts of our establishment, now would we?" she asked with mirth as she reached out and released one of Mary Margaret's hands from the grab bars. She examined it closely and turned it over numerous times within her hands. "Such beautiful skin. Flawless," she said. The Queen's own skin looked much like Mary Margaret's but that was common for royalty in all Realms. "Best to make you more fitting for our world," she spoke as she placed Mary Margaret's hand back to the grab bar. "Welcome to the darkest of the realms, Miss Nolan. The Black Realm is now your home," she stated ominously as she back up and tore her gaze away from the beautiful woman to look at her Governor. She then made her last instruction. "Mark her."

"As you command, Your Majesty," he stated with a smirk as he motioned the guard to fetch the Marker.

Before too long, screams were heard echoing off the damp walls of the dungeon. The Marker had begun his lovely, yet barbaric task of marking the upper limbs. Where Mary Margaret had worn beautifully simple golden bracelets around her wrists, the dark realm was much more gruesome in their application of the receptors. The receptors were steel bars driven into the flesh of one's palm and sealed with two primitive metals discs: one on the face of the palm, and the other atop the back of the hand. The one inch bars were enhanced to inflict pain, but not permanently damage the ligaments, bones, nerves, or muscles of the hand. The hands would be completely functional and would not be hindered by the receptor. The receptor also held a specific material compound that filtered through the bloodstream and turned the resident's irises blood red. The symbol of Thrice, three interlocking rings, which were tattooed within the iris throughout all realms, was not affected by any process.

Once it was all over, Mary Margaret was thrust outside the palace walls. She was in absolute agony in a foreign and completely different world from that of which she had spent thirty of her names days. How long would she live? Would she and her unborn child even survive past the night? The Palace gates closed with a resounding echo and so her life, thereon, began in The Black Realm.

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**AN2: So, should I continue this story here? Please let me know. Reviews, favorites, and follows are always greatly appreciated. **

**For anyone interested, my original story to this is posted on Wattpad under the same title, same username. The story there is coming to close in about 10 more chapters; I have about ¾ of it published there. However, please note that this story posted here might differ (evolve) in several ways from my original story depending on feedback or reviews I receive here. The main story line will remain the same, but significant details ****could ****very easily be altered, so just keep all that in mind should you read the original story. :) Thanks for reading!  
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	2. Chapter I - An Unexpected Friendship

**AN: Thanks to the "Guest" reviewer who left me invaluable feedback concerning this story! It is vastly appreciated and helpful! :) Also thanks to everyone else who reviewed / favorited / followed this story. I haven't responded to you guys yet, but know your comments were read and appreciated as well! :)**

**Just to make sure the dates and years are clear, I've posted the calendar below. The years basically read like our years. The next few chapters will feature time jumps so it's vital to watch those closely.**

**Calendar of Thrice**

**_Quarters_**

The Shadow of Darkness - Winter (93 days)

The Eclipse of Dawn - Spring (90 days)

The Light of Sun - Summer (90 days)

The Shine of Night - Autumn (92 days)

**Disclaimer****: See Chapter 1: Prologue**

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**Chapter I - An Unexpected Friendship**

**_Fifteen years past, in the year of 1e99 on the 40th day of The Shine of Night._**

It was not a rare occasion for one's past to be revisited in the world of dreams. Too often dreams were of missed opportunities, twisted realities, or just simply a replay of certain moments in time. For Emma, her dreams were often plagued with all imaginable. The skeletons of her past frequented her imaginings, distorting what should be peaceful escapes to horrific nightmares.

On this night, though, her dreams were far kinder. Transporting her to a time and place where her life changed for the better. It's odd to think one person, in the span of human life, could transform and shape the entire outlook on another. Actions of one can and will lead to the consequences of another, some beneficial and others harmful. So, when she finally awoke and readied for the day, a rather large smile decorated her small face.

Full of energy, she dressed quickly and jostled the small heap of blankets on the bed next to her own. "Come on, Danny. Ma's already up," she said as she poked at the soft arch in the ragged quilt covers. She rolled her eyes as the mass squirmed and retreated further into his den. "Come on, Ma's already cooked breakfast and it's gettin' cold," she said to the lump. After no response, she blew a few wild hairs from her eyes and said, "Fine, but I'm not the one who's gonna get in trouble for the critters you decided to hide out by the garden … which is where Ma is out diggin' right now."

The bed moved with a jerk and a dark wad of unruly hair peeked through. The young boy glanced around in a dazed panic; his eyes red and glassy from sleep.

Emma smirked knowing that would grab his attention. She had watched him as he collected a family of horny toads in Ma's garden basket and covered it with an old sheet. This was bound to be entertaining. Ma hated the things after one had climbed in her clog and ran up her leg when she put her foot in. Emma didn't know which of the three had moved faster: the clog, the horny toad, or her mother. But Danny loved catching them. He always let them lose in the end though. However, she did admit to helping Danny catch numerous bugs to feed the captured creatures. Secretly, she found them quite bizarre yet fascinating. At times she was just as eager to chase after the critters as Danny was himself. They made it a game of sorts. Whoever caught the most claimed the right to the exclusive use of honey for the week.

As if on cue, a loud screech followed by several hollow tumbles and the sound of Danny's name caused the young boy to fling his covers off and leap from the bed. Emma chortled to herself as she heard the two outside. Danny was getting an earful as Ma had apparently picked up the basket unknowing of its true contents and had begun placing picked vegetables when she discovered the menaces. Thank the Gods it was early morning hunting time. _Her_ time.

She headed to the small table next to the hearth where she ate a slice of dark bread, washed it down with barley water—sweetened the slightest with honey, and hurried off for her next adventure of the day with a game bag thrown over her shoulder and dagger on belt. She'd check the snare traps on her way and then once again as she returned home. Perchance, they might have an easy supper tonight.

"Emma! Don't you wander too far now. There are chores to be done!" her mother called from the garden as Danny still looked for one of the lizards. He had managed to pick up all the spilt vegetables and righted what buckets and knickknacks her mother had managed to knock over.

The older woman knelt as she harvested what little crop the recent frost had not damaged. She wiped away a lone bead of sweat as the young girl ran up a small hill, the dead leaves and brush crunched under her step. She waved a hand in acknowledgment to her mother, and continued on up the hill until she broke the other side.

She walked for a long while, occasionally picking up a stray rock or acorn and tossing it at nearby targets, generally trees, thickets, or small animals that were not in the least deterred by her step. The walk was long and lonesome, but it never stopped young Emma from venturing out to her secluded place. Regardless of her maturity level, she was still a child at heart, and frequently made conversation with whatever wildlife crossed her path. At least it made her feel not quite so alone, and in a place such as the Black, that was a feat seldom accomplished.

She finally came upon "the tree" which was nothing more than an old tree that looked like death had taken it over and over again. The oozing sap at the truck had turned the tree black. Gloomy scale, her mother called it. The tiny mold spores were sooty and coated her clothing by the time she climbed up and back down. But it was tallest and largest within several acres, and Emma began her ascent to the top. The branches were still solid as if it were thriving on the inside, but decaying on outside. Up and up she climbed as the nearby hill finally cleared the horizon and she could see the distant Mountains of Zanthur. Her mind wandered as she stared off into the distance. She thought of a bigger and grander world than that of which she lived in. Her mother often spoke of distant kingdoms far better than their own, and how she prayed to the Gods above that she and her brother could escape their world and live a much better life.

Emma was adventurous by heart, often losing hours of day as she explored the depths of her mind. It was the only way to truly escape and fulfill all of her childish and nonsensical adventures.

The sun was inching its way overhead, and warmed her gently. The air held a chill to it, but her wool overcoat was honestly overkill. It would come off in a matter of minutes as the sun above warmed her small body.

Silently she wondered what great quests awaited discovery out in the horizon. No one dared to venture out beyond the Great Boundary. It was told that abysmal wastelands stretched on for years at a time, and that any foolish soul who crossed the line would die a slow and painful death; alone and with nothing but the fiery sun cooking their flesh. It was enough of a tale to make one's skin buzz with fright.

Emma, however, was not one to be easily frightened. Instead of looking to the distance with trepidation, she looked to it with a longing of hope. Hope of an escape and a better life.

The sun had moved a couple inches within the sky, and Emma's eyes became heavy with sleep. She retreated down several feet so that a misstep would not allow death to claim her should she fall. She settled at a wide tree crotch, and with a long sigh, she reclined back against the trunk and brought her dangling legs up to rest on the branch. She loosened her belt and whipped it from its loops before securing her legs to the branch with the strip of leather. She closed her eyes and soon fell into an easy slumber.

She was awoken by the obnoxious squawking of a black crow. She swiped irritatingly at the annoying creature trying to dispel it. However, instead of shooing the bird away, it turned on her and began to attack.

She flailed around as she tried to free her legs from the belt. Finally, it came loose, and she used it to swat at the devilish creature. With one swift hit, it faltered in its flight and flew off.

"Damn bird!" she roared as she tightened her grip on the strip of leather, her knuckles turning white. Her heart was racing within her chest, and her breathing was labored.

As soon as the initial panic faded, she felt a swift gust of wind catch the side of her face. She turned in the general direction, and came face to face with a steel arrow buried within the tree bark, not but mere inches from her face. She jerked back on instinct, and fell sideways from her perch.

She was still quite high up as her head and back cracked against a few stray limbs before her limp body met the ground. The breath was knocked from her, and she pawed desperately at the ground with her right hand. Nothing felt broken, but her head felt as if it had been split open from brow to base. For a fleeting second, she wondered if she was paralyzed. She felt a warm sensation at the back and side of her head.

"Gods!" A female voiced called out, and Emma heard the telltale signs of someone approaching on foot. Bush and leaves were crushed under the weight of someone kneeling forcefully beside her. Emma tried to rise, but a fierce and nauseating pain shot through her skull.

"Ow …" she muttered as she palmed the side of her head, unable to reach the back.

"I'm so sorry! I thought you were a beast—" the unknown girl spoke as her hands hovered above Emma's body hesitantly, not quite knowing where to place them.

"That talks?!" Emma asked incredulously through gritted teeth; her eyes wide and stunned.

"I had already released the arrow!" the girl countered. "Here, just lie still. You are bleeding."

For some unexplained reason, Emma's body and mind relaxed as the mysterious girl placed her hands upon her shoulder and arm. She would have been long dead if the girl was head set on it. Instead, she was kneeling beside an injured Emma, a stranger to her as if she had nowhere else to be. No other important or urgent matters to attend to. That made Emma's heart flutter. Any other person would have slit her throat without preamble and stolen what few items of insignificant value he or she could get their hands on. Chivalry in this dark realm was cold, dead, and unburied—left to rot beneath the trees for the crows to find and feed upon.

Emma remained still as her vision became less and less fuzzy and more clear and straight. At least the trees were not dancing above her anymore; taunting her as they circled her menacingly. She looked off to the right and saw a beautiful young girl, probably not much older than herself. She looked different from Emma and most from this realm. Emma was decorated with scars, bruises, and cuts. Her face and hands were dirty and smudged from days of hard labor. Dark lines formed around her nail beds and under the sliver of nail itself, and her blonde hair was unwashed and curly. Emma's clothes were also tattered, torn, and ill-fitting. The only thing of value to her was her custom stitched leather boots.

The other girl, however, was nearly immaculate in her appearance. Her face was clear and bright, and her dark brown hair, almost raven black, was neatly kept, pulled back into a single braid that fell at her shoulder blades. She looked to be dressed in the finest of riding attire, and her posture was quite rigid. It was if she was an alien in this small land. Emma offhandedly wondered if that was why this strange and peculiar girl traveled on such an off beaten path. She would certainly attract attention otherwise, and any attention in these parts was just was asking for trouble. Right over her shoulder was her elegant bow and quiver filled with arrows.

"What were you doing up there anyway?" the strange girl asked as she removed her tight fitting gloves and pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket. Emma questioned her intention until she moved the piece of cloth to her head and gently wiped at several spots. When she pulled it back to reveal a clean section of cloth, Emma noticed the splotches of bright crimson. She hadn't even felt the fleeting blood on her skin.

She winced one time when the mystifying girl got too close to a larger wound. Emma finally found her voice to speak. "Escapin'," she said.

The girl looked at her disbelievingly before her eyes traveled the distance up the tree to the top where Emma had rested. "From up there?" the young girl asked clearly amused. "Normally when something or someone is up a tree, they are trapped. That is why treeing an animal is an easy kill. There _is_ no escaping," she stated with a knowing smirk.

Emma blushed at the playful jab, and had she not been incapacitated on the ground, she would have stomped her foot in annoyance and walked off; her childish pride taking hold. "Yeah well, I wasn't runnin' and nothin' was after me," she said with a huff and tried to cross her arms. "I always pick this tree 'cause it's the tallest. I can see better."

"Always? How often do you travel here?"

"Not enough …" Emma said. "Every other day, maybe. When I don't have chores or errands to do," she paused and surveyed the girl next to her. She set her jaw as she sat up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, and turned the slightest bit to sit against the truck of the tree. "How come I've never seen you 'round here before?" she asked the odd girl.

The dark haired brunette seemed to think long and hard about her answer as she fidgeted with the hem on her coat. "Mother generally does not allow me to come into the woods. I disobeyed my riding instructor by coming this far out, but it gets terribly boring traveling the same trails every day. I guess in a way, I am escaping as well," she admitted.

Emma nodded in understanding. "My Ma doesn't like me comin' out here either. She says it's dangerous."

"She is right. Are you armed? It is even more dangerous for a young girl, anyone really, to be walking these lands without a means of protecting themselves."

"Just a dagger," Emma stated as she lifted her left arm and tucked her right hand underneath her coat and unsheathed a small dagger. She held it up for her new counterpart to see and then tossed it with much contempt to the forest floor. "It's not even sharp," she said with a scowl.

The brunette extended her arm and picked up the dagger with a metal clang as it dragged over small stones. She analyzed it as her fingers graced the planes of the blade. It was made of durable metal, but the simple construction made it more cost efficient. "Do not let that dull blade deceive you," the unnamed girl began. "It can still do damage, just not as clean or quick. Just ask Old Man Humphries."

"The one eyed man?" Emma asked wide-eyed as her jaw slacked.

The one eyed man had been the very subject of children's nightmares throughout the realm. He not only was missing an eye, but also only had half a right arm. It was heavily mangled at the stump and was regularly waved menacingly at mischievous children who thought it funny to steal his wooden eye. It annoyed him enough when the blasted ball would not stay put in his socket, falling out whenever he stooped over. But then to have children rush in and swipe the fallen eye, well, that riled his temper further. It was quite gruesome actually.

The other girl laughed at Emma's gaping expression. "Have you never pondered how he got the name?" she asked, and they both broke out into a fit of laughter. The brunette stopped as soon as the vile sound left her mouth. She quickly clamped a bare hand to her mouth. What if her mother heard? She swore that woman could spot a smile a league away, and laughter, well, she was positive that jovial sound would reach her ears like a thousand man trumpet band sounding off just feet away. Emma must have noticed the change, and stopped quickly as well.

She looked hard at Emma as the young girl drew patterns into the dirt with a snapped twig. She couldn't be much younger than herself. Her actions mimicked that of young girl, but her physique told an entirely different story. Much like her own childhood, she was sure Emma's had been stolen away from her as well. "How old are you?" she finally asked.

"Eight."

"I am thirteen. It is not often I meet someone close to my own age. Too often they are out in the fields, down in the mines, or out on the bay. Doing what they can to support their family, I suppose."

"I help support my family. My brother and I fetch game, among other things. I pull my own load." Emma said on the defensive as she crossed her arms. The girl quickly backtracked.

"I did not mean to imply that. I never thought otherwise. You seem resourceful enough. My name is Regina, by the way," she stated as she formally introduced herself.

"Emma," she said in return and took the other's girl within her own.

The movement caused Regina's sleeve to ride up ever-so-slightly, revealing sections of black, blue, and brown skin around her wrists and lower arm. Bruises that were suspiciously rounded and a few even had crescent shaped cuts. They were scabbed over, and the surrounding skin was red and irritated, as if she had been scratching at them through her clothing.

Emma's brow furrowed, and her smile faded as she looked worriedly at the damaged skin. "Your arm," Emma stated as she pulled Regina's hand closer and pushed the sleeve up, granting her a better view. "Wha' happened?"

"Oh," she said, feigning indifference, "my wrist got caught the lead of a yearling. He spooked and nearly broke my hand. My mother was none too pleased."

"That doesn't look like rope marks. I've had several rope burns, and they scab over somethin' fierce. Stomach turnin' and they ooze. " Emma stated more to herself than Regina. Her small fingers stretched across Regina's thin wrist, gentle in their movement, but came up short of meeting all the bruise points. They looked like finger marks. "My Ma came home one night with marks like these, though. She was bloody, bruised, and had a large gash on her head and lip. She never told me what happened, but these marks look like the ones I saw on her neck. She thinks I'm stupid 'cause I'm small, but I know she was hurt that night."

"Well I wasn't." Regina stated as she pulled back her hand. She refused to meet Emma's eyes and decided to try for a shift in the conversation. "What did your mother do?"

Emma shrugged and picked at a small scrawny weed growing from the earth as she spoke. "Nothin'. She was quiet for a few days, but soon everythin' was normal again. I think it was the local butcher. I went with Ma every week to pick up trimmin's and after that night we stopped. If I had known for certain, I would have put a knife in his belly. But soon Ma got sick, and it was forgotten. Plus he died soon after."

Emma looked at Regina once again and noticed she was fiddling with the top button of her coat. Her eyes were distance, unfocused, and her head was turned away from Emma. "You should tell your parents if someone's hurtin' you. Whoever it is, they shouldn't be doin' that. Even I'm smart enough to know that much."

"My mother has far more important things to attend to than a few scrapes and bruises," Regina said in a quiet voice.

"Who's your mother?"

Regina stopped and looked Emma directly in her eyes. There was neither hesitance nor conflict, just the hardness in her eyes that spoke of truth and determination. Her shoulders squared off as if she was bracing for some type of reprimand or punishment that would come with what she was about to state.

Emma noticed the change and sat ever so straighter, holding her breath in anticipation.

"Cora," Regina stated with a hushed voice. "The Queen."

If anyone else had made such a bizarre statement, Emma would have would have laughed in their face for such a blatant lie. Daughter of the Queen, right. Royalty never mingled with peasants. Let alone, stop to aid them in a time of need. Yet here sat a young girl, prim and tailored in the finest of clothing. She was well spoken, well mannered, and her mere presence commanded respect. Emma's eyes blinked rapidly as they widened at the realization she was, in fact, looking at the Princess. Her head snapped quickly in all directions, eyes scanning the area as her hands fidgeted in midair.

"Y—you … you're the Prin—" Emma began, but was quickly silenced with a hand covering her mouth.

"Do not speak of my title," she spoke in a whisper. "Here I am Regina. Nothing more," she said and removed her hand once Emma nodded. The next few minutes were spent in silence as Emma took in this new information. "How is your head feeling?" the older girl eventually asked.

Emma showed no signs of acknowledgment as she twisted an unnaturally smooth rose rock between her fingers. Her stare was unfocused on some point in the distance.

"Emma?" she asked once more. Her name finally broke her out of her reverie, but the blank look on her face mirrored the fact she didn't hear the original question. "Your head?" Regina clarified. "How does it feel?"

Emma frowned as she lifted her right hand to her head. She grimaced upon contact and drew her hand down to discover the pads of her fingers covered in a small amount of blood. She cringed, but smiled. "Like I smashed it on a rock."

Regina grinned in return and looked to the sky. "It will be dark soon. We both should head home. Where do you live?"

Emma grunted as she attempted to stand, stumbling only as the blood rushed to her head. Sticks, leaves, and dirt clung to her hands, backside, and breeches as she tried to dust herself off. Nightfall? Had she been away that long?

"'Bout an hour's walk from here. Right on the city limits," she answered as she pulled a rather large twig from her unruly hair.

"I have a horse not far from here. I can take you home if you like."

"No, I—"

"I do not mind, Emma. I would not have offered otherwise," she stated as she placed a hand upon Emma's shoulder.

"Okay, I'll stay here—"

"I'm not leaving you here. Come along," the young brunette spoke as she extended her hand for Emma to take.

Emma, however, looked at her and the aforementioned hand as if they were traitorous entities, just waiting for the opportune moment to strike and carry her off into the void. Emma might have been young at heart, but she knew and understood the ways of the cruel world. No one helped another unless he or she could profit from such actions. Regardless of the short time she spent with Regina, that thought, which had been ingrained since birth, could not be chased off easily, or quickly for that matter. Even though she believed Regina's story, no one helped without gain. She knew now could be no different as well. "Regina?" she asked. Her voice quiet and full of doubt. It also carried with it a tinge of guilt. Regina had in no way led her to believe she harbored any ill intentions toward Emma, but the doubt was still there regardless. "Why are you helpin' me?"

"I do not know," Regina answered honestly. "I just want to help you." She was quiet for a long while as she stared off into the trees and traced the furrows of the bark. She felt dark eyes upon her, urging her to continue. The older girl conceded and sank back against the truck of a tree. Her lovely jodhpurs were covered in mud and dirt. Emma silently berated the other girl for allowing such a garment to get to such a state. Regina took a long breath before she began to speak. "You are the first person I have spoken to in months … besides my mother, of course. And I have enjoyed it." Regina spoke. Sadness seemed to spill from every syllable. "It was nice to finally make a friend."

"Okay," Emma said as she took the aforementioned hand. A smile upon her face.

Regina sidled up to Emma and then fastened her right arm around Emma's waist to help support her on the short trek to the horse.

It was nearing sunset as the girls made it right to the boundary of the Nolan household. At the request of Emma, Regina stopped in front of an old iron wire fence before Emma slid ungracefully from the saddle and cupped her throbbing head. They bid goodbye to each other with promises to see each other again soon.

Across the way, a young boy was hurrying home, his small legs barely keeping up with his over energized body. "Momma! Emma's ridin' a horse with a strange girl," the young child yelled excitedly as he leapt through the thick underbrush surrounding their house. He had seen Emma, along with a strange girl and her horse, walking through the woodlands as he was retrieving their captured game. He had caught a pheasant who was flailing unhappily at his side as he held it outstretched and by its feet, his own stumbling every now and then over hidden debris on the forest floor.

Mary Margaret, who was standing right inside the kitchen door, turned and stepped outside to address her winded son. That was when a lone figure stumbled out of the brush, looking exhausted and battered.

Emma must have heard her younger brother's tattling because as soon as he came into view she scowled and spoke. "Must you tell everythin' you know, Danny?"

"Emma! What in the three!" her mother gasped in concern, but also mild irritation.

"Ma," she scolded as her mother cupped her cheeks, looking for any signs of injury besides the few scrapes and bruises on her face and arms. She gasped loudly as she saw the caked blood at the back of Emma's head. "I'm all right. I just fell from the tree."

"Emma Swan Nolan, what have I told you about climbin' those trees in the forest? And who was that girl you were with? Did she cause this?"

"It was an accident, but she's my friend, and she was kind enough to help me home."

Her mother held her head within her hands as she regarded her sadly. The woman's eyes spoke volumes in experience, fear, and loss of hope. It was the look of someone far older and wiser. Her mother inhaled deeply, almost contemplatively as she looked at her daughter and placed her right hand upon her chest, right above her heart. "Your heart's too large, Emma," she said in a despondent tone. "If you're not careful, it will get you hurt. We've had this very discussion _many_ times. You cannot trust people here. They're only out to hurt you," the older woman urged, willing her young daughter to hear her plea and heed its warning. She took her by the hand and led her over to the small wash bin in the kitchen.

"My heart tells me that even people here can have good in them. You're here, aren't you? And Danny and I … we're not bad people, are we?" Emma asked as tears welled up within her eyes. The pain in her head, as well as in heart were becoming too much for the young girl to manage. It was overwhelming, and she was just thankful she was now at home with her family, in her mother's embrace.

The woman considered her daughter's words with surprise. It struck her how observant, and intelligent Emma truly was, not that she ever thought otherwise, but the type of thoughts Emma just voiced, were never spoken or addressed. "Oh, of course not, sweetheart."

"Then if that's true of us, what makes it untrue for others?"

"Very well. Let's get you cleaned up. That cut looks rather nasty," she said as she dipped an old rag into the tepid water and wrung it out.

Dirt, dried blood, and forest debris were all wiped away by tender hands as her mother tended to her cuts, scrapes, and the particularly mean gash on her head. With all the love and gentleness a mother could bring, she was finally clean, and supper was not far off.

Both Emma and Danny sat at the old, rickety wooden table which was set for three. Danny was rocking back and forth on the uneven legs, and Emma sat and watched her mother fill three bowls full of barely pottage over bread and a few spare slices of salt pork. "I would like to meet her," Mary Margaret said as she allowed her pottage to cool. "We'll have supper one night, and she would be welcomed to join us."

Emma smiled brightly as she ate her stew with renewed vigor. Perhaps the next time they all sit down for the evening meal, Regina would be right alongside her. The thought alone was overwhelming.


	3. Chapter II - Family

**Disclaimer: See Prologue.**

* * *

**Chapter II – Family**

_**Fifteen years past, in the year of 1e99 on the 23rd day of The Eclipse of Dawn.**_

It had been many, many weeks since Regina had last seen the eccentric yet adoring blonde girl. She had to be very mindful in plotting her escapes. The last thing she wanted or needed was to be discovered by her mother. She would be confined to her chambers for days. A thought she'd just assume not have.

They met at the old tree. The same place they had first met all those days ago. Emma greeted her with a bright smile and hello before climbing up on her horse, and heading to her home.

The trip seemed shorter than before; of course they weren't under the duress as they were last time. Emma didn't have a gaping wound to attend to. But it was a pleasant ride nonetheless.

When they arrived at the home, Regina followed the young girl up to the rickety house. This would be the first time she met the rest of Emma's family. The house stood small, well kept but showing its age due to the warped and swelled planks of wood. The house seemed to be leaning slightly making Regina question its stability. A small stone chimney rose from the roof and wisps of gray smoke floated out.

The garden and firewood stash outside appeared well maintained, and the windows and stoops looked freshly cleaned and swept. It was really quite quaint.

Emma ushered her in through the side door right into the kitchen.

Regina swallowed nervously as she looked around, surveying her surroundings. An undersized hearth and kettle were to her left and she could tell the main living quarters flowed from the kitchen to the den not but a few yards away. The house seemed to only have two rooms: the one she stood in, and another tiny room she guessed for beds. Her stomach knotted as she realized her private washroom chamber equaled the house as a whole in size. What little furniture lay scattered about looked mismatched, broken, or in such disrepair it held little use. Her mother would be furious if she knew she had set eyes on such a place let alone visited, dined, and acquainted herself with the inhabitants. To her mother, these kindhearted people were not people at all, merely urchins that of whom she took money and services from.

"Ma! Me and Regina are gonna walk the stream!" Emma called out into the house. Emma glanced at her with a shy grin and mirth in her eyes. She returned the smile but startled when a loud thud came from the backroom. A young boy, probably around Emma's age rounded the corner in excitement.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Can I go too?"

"No!" Emma said with a look of annoyance. Her tone said it too.

Regina watched the boy's disappointment as it fell to his shoulders. He looked to Regina with a sad smile and went to walk back to his room, obviously knowing an argument with his older sister would not turn to his benefit.

She squeezed Emma's hand that she had yet to release, before she spoke. "Let him come with us," she implored, eager just to spend time with others.

Emma just shook her head animatedly with a childish pout. "He'll get in the way," she said and it came out whinny. Regina looked at her disapprovingly and Emma conceded, mumbling a 'fine' under her breath. Danny heard her loud and clear as he ran off to slip on his shoes. Emma shook her head in mild annoyance as she yelled after him, "Grab your rod! You can catch us supper!"

"He loves you so. You're lucky to have a brother."

Emma huffed. "You want 'em? I'll be happy to trade him for silence."

Regina diverted her gaze as she settled on her hands, wringing them nervously as she spoke, "Silence becomes deafening after so long."

Emma was about to respond when her mother walked in from outside. "Oh, girls!" she greeted. "I was beginning to worry." She thought nothing of it to pull Regina down into a friendly hug. "Pleasure to meet you, Regina. Emma has spoken of little else than her new friend these past weeks. She tells us you're a skilled bow woman. She loves hunting. Stays out most of the day … I'd imagine she would love your company. Perhaps she could even take a few lessons from you."

Regina caught the slight scowl on Emma's face. She found it amusing. "I would be honored," she said with a smile.

"You seem like a good girl. Hard to come by people like you in this realm. It's refreshing to know hope is not lost."

"Well, thank you for inviting me into your home for the day."

Mary Margaret waved her off with a look of nonsense. "_Any_ day. Any day you are most welcomed. No invitation, no excuse, you just come right over. It's always nice to have company."

After a beat, Danny came running through with his fishing rod in hand. He ran out the door and Regina and Emma followed close behind.

Regina held the crook of Emma's arm the entire walk. They both laughed as Danny darted ahead to chase insects or wildlife that caught his eye. It seemed so natural. Regina might have been five years older, but Emma stood straight and strong as she escorted royalty just the way royal guards would have. She felt important—protective, even if she was several inches shorter than the pretty girl next to her. She couldn't help but be shy and reserved around the young regal adolescent. Despite her gentle disposition, she still seemed imperious in her stance.

Soon, they came upon the river and walked a few ways upstream. Regina and Emma sat down at the bank on a few large rocks and removed their shoes so that the almost uncomfortably cool water could race over their feet. Regina laughed as she wiggled her toes in the water. It was refreshing.

Danny, in the mean time, dug at the bank in search for worms to bait his line. After he gathered a few, he decided it would be hilarious to surprise Regina with a handful. She squealed right in Emma's ear and Emma decided right then and there that when her ear stopped ringing she would fling herself on him and lock him in a chokehold. She held her left ear, cringing as the obnoxious ringing continued, but when she looked over at her friend, she saw a beautiful, natural smile. She would deal with Danny later.

It felt like hours had passed. Danny had managed to catch several small chubs and trout, enough for a decent supper and broth. The girls, on the other hand, sat at the side and talked about anything and everything. Regina talked of her studies and how the library had become her place of refuge. She told stories of the kitchen maids and how some of them taught her basic lessons in cooking—educating her on the different spices, wines, and vinegars. But her mother never came up. Not one utterance. Emma thought better than to ask. Every discussion stayed clear of the Queen.

Emma spoke of her favorite tall tales, and how she spent her days hunting and running errands to the market. Most of her kills feed them but occasionally, on a good day, she would take her leftover kills to the market to sell for a few coins. It never was much, but it bought a loaf of delicious wheat bread.

They gathered up what few items they brought and headed back home for supper. Emma noticed a slight ease in Regina's step that was not there before. She seemed lighter if that was possible—freer maybe. Perhaps it was the brilliant grin plastered across her young face. It hadn't faded since they left home, but the closer they drew near, apprehension weighed her down as if she knew the day drew to a close. In a mere couple of hours, she would have to make the dreaded trip back home. Regina's stomach ached at the thought, almost making her physically sick.

But that worry ebbed away as she, along with the two other Nolan's entered the quaint home. Mary Margaret had already begun cooking, anticipating her children's arrival.

Danny took his catches outside and began to clean them while Emma took Regina back to her room to show her her beloved straw dolls.

Regina looked at the dolls with a hint of sadness as she straightened their dirty and tattered clothing. No doubt they were old. The stains and grime told that much. The construction seemed simple and archaic, yet she held on to them like they were the most precious things in the realms. This basic childhood toy symbolized yet another thing her mother stole from her. She had often been told by her mother that she was too old for dolls.

Sitting there on that bed with Emma, looking at children's dolls and speaking about the most nonsensical things made Regina feel like a young girl for the first time in her life, and it felt wonderful.

Mary Margaret sat the table for four for the first time. Their extra chair had long since met its demise, so Danny, being the youngest, had to retrieve an old watering bucket from outside to sit on. The food, while vastly different from her dining in the palace, looked scrumptious, nevertheless. A large kettle sat in the middle filled to the brim with various vegetables, herbs, and the fish Danny caught. A sliced loaf of dark bread also sat in the middle.

Regina watched with amusement as the family of three dug right in. As usual, Emma and Danny fought over the ladle, until Mary Margaret swatted at them with an extra one she handed to Regina.

Regina only dipped a small amount into her bowl and looked at it as if awaiting approval. Mary Margaret noticed and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Regina, honey, eat all you like. There's plenty."

She nodded and filled her bowl as Emma passed her a portion of bread. "The dark bread's not that fresh," Emma said with her mouth full of food. "But it's all right once you dip it in the soup."

Her mother looked absolutely horrified. "Emma!" her mother scolded with a blush to her cheeks.

Regina cupped a hand to her mouth as she held back a quiet laugh. "It is delicious, Miss Nolan."

"That's very kind of you, honey. It's never much, but it's enough for us, I suppose."

The rest of dinner went on with a jovial atmosphere. Mary Margaret asked Regina all kinds of questions. Questions only a mother would typically ask. Regina answered many without hesitation, loving the opportunity to engage in such common luxuries. But some questions centered on her home life and parents were met with unease and silence. Mary Margaret noticed and quietly changed topics.

The rest of dinner went on with a jovial atmosphere. Mary Margaret asked Regina all kinds of questions. Questions only a mother would typically ask. Regina answered many without hesitation, loving the opportunity to engage in such common luxuries. But some questions centered on her home life and parents were met with unease and silence. Mary Margaret noticed and quickly changed topics.

* * *

All remained well for the many weeks that passed. Regina visited as frequently as she dared, hopeful that her mother continued to be oblivious of her secretive outings. Gods help her should her mother ever find out.

The days of her visits were the happiest she'd ever been. For the first time, she finally understood what it felt like to be part of a loving family. The feeling felt like nothing she had ever encountered before, filling her up from the inside out. Making her whole once again.

But all that came crashing down early one morning in the late spring. Regina traveled off the grounds, unaware of her mother's guards following her. Before she made it too far, they cornered her and took her back to the palace. She endured her mother's wrath for the better part of the morning and afternoon. After her mother's orders to spend the remainder of the day secluded to her chambers, she took another daring chance and fled into the forest.

"Regina!" Emma greeted; her tone full of concern and worry. She had sat waiting for hours for her friend's arrival. She had never been late before. But when she saw Regina's swollen and red cheeks still damp from tears, she ran to her. She looked her over with keen eyes and they immediately landed on her wrists. "Gods! Wha' happened?"

Regina shook her head as new tears began to fall. "She found out!" she said in a panic. "She found out I was leaving my guard. He told her."

Young Emma looked at her wrists and carefully ran her thumb over the marred skin. "Your wrists …" she said in horror as she looked at blood blisters that had formed around and beneath Regina's bracelets. Because she was royalty, she didn't have to wear the standard receptors that went through the hand. She had always worn gloves outside the palace. "Who did this?"

Regina's silence told her everything.

"Come on, Ma knows how to take that burn right out."

"She can't see them!" she said. "She'll know who I am once she sees them."

"All right. But at least let her tend to your lip."

Regina nodded and was led to her second home.

"I need to head back before mother realizes I'm gone again," she said after awhile. Emma and she had moved to the bedroom. They sat on Emma's bed as Regina fumbled with her wrists. Emma knew they must have been painful. She snuck back into the kitchen, wrung out the cloth, grabbed a small container of salve and washed Regina's wrists herself.

Regina couldn't stay for supper, instead, she went to leave.

Emma slipped on her shoes, and snatched her dagger before saying, "I'll walk with you—"

"No!" Regina interjected. "The last thing I want is to give my mother someone else to go after. I hold enough of her attention for now." She paused as she collapsed back on the straw mattress. She began to cry again. "I cannot come here anymore, Emma. Every day that I venture out here—every hour I spend here with you and your family, I am putting all of you more and more at risk. My mother is capable of horrific things … and I cannot … I _will not_ allow harm to come to any of you because of me."

Realization dawned on Emma. This could be the final time she ever saw her dear friend again. "But … but you _can't_ leave! You're my best friend—the only one I have."

"I do not have a choice, Emma. I could not live with myself if harm came upon you or your family … for something I did. Something I could have prevented."

"Then we'll leave—run away! You know that tree we always sit in, I've seen beyond it, mountains far off in the distance. We can leave and go there."

The older girl regarded her with pain and sadness. Her lip quivered with her despair. "You are still so naïve, Emma. What I would not give to see through your eyes. To see hope when there is none; to see light in this dark place," she stopped and lowered her head. She cleared her throat, and for the first time, Emma heard darkness in her tone. "The boundary is impassable, and the Black is too small to hide in. My mother would find us within hours. There are only so many places to hide for a girl of noble birth and a peasant girl of no more than ten," she looked at Emma and her eyes looked cold for a fleeting moment before Regina understood the hurt her words had just caused her dear friend. She cupped her cheek lovingly as she continued, much gentler this time. "I may have five years on you, but you have taught me so much these past months, Emma. I wish all were as optimistic, loving, and accepting as you. And you are my best and only friend as well."

"Here," Emma said as she stood. "I want to give you something."

Emma went over to the side of her bed, knelt down, and reached under. She brought out an old rusted and dented metal box. She popped it open and picked up something from within.

Without a second glance to the opened box, Emma walked over to her and showed her the gift.

Regina smiled as she took the long necklace within her hands; tracing her forefinger and thumb over the single pendant and smooth cream colored bone accents."

"Tis beautiful, Emma. But I could not possibly take this from you."

"I made it for you. I was in the market one morning and this man had several pressed pendants and smooth stones. I had an extra kill that day and traded it for that pendant and stone. I liked it because it had a swan on it. Swan's my middle name, but I also know swans to be graceful and beautiful. Ma helped me with the wire, but …" she trailed off, feeling awkward and unknowing about what to say next. She didn't have to fret too long because Regina threw her arms around the young girl and locked her in an appreciative hug.

"Thank you," she said as her words were muffled by Emma's shoulder.

She pulled back and brought the necklace around her neck and clasped it. Her long fingers traced it across her clavicle as she studied it; a huge grin on her face.

But Emma didn't seem too pleased. "It's ugly," she said after a bit. Feeling self-conscious toward her gift. "You're too pretty and beautiful and you have much nicer things to wear than an old handmade necklace made of bones and silly rocks. I feel stupid givin' that to you."

Regina smiled sadly as she cupped Emma's chin and brought tear-filled eyes up to meet her own. "Emma," she began. "I think it is beautiful. You made it for me and that is something no one else has ever done. Not out of good will. I will always treasure this because you gave it to me."

She placed a goodbye kiss to her crown and stood. "I must go."

"Please come back," the young girl begged. "She won't find out."

Regina neither confirmed nor denied Emma's request. It was too early to make promises. She didn't even know what awaited her at home. But as she looked into soft crimson eyes, something spoke to her. A slight tug of her heart. A force almost binding her to this equally young girl that sat in front of her. No one could deny the special bond both girls had formed over the past seasons. It was strong and fierce; unique in many ways. They had forged an unlikely friendship—a friendship that would ultimately shape their destinies, their futures. But would it be for better … or for worse?


	4. Chapter III - Happy Name Day

**AN: This chapter is the last of the time jumps. Next chapter will begin the main timeline of the story. The chapter is already written so I hope to have it up sometime tomorrow. :)**

* * *

**Chapter III - Happy Name Day  
**

**_Thirteen years past, in the year of 2e01 on the 15_****_th_****_ day of The Light of Sun._**

It had been just under two years since Emma met the quiet and reserved girl—a Princess.

Princess Regina Mills of the Black Realm.

Two years of meeting in secrecy that had eventually turned into a daily routine the last two quarters. Regina had been smart enough to coerce her one guard to allow Dane, her private guard, to escort her on her rides. Reluctantly, he agreed to be her eyes and ears as she made her daily trek to meet up with her best friend. And each day that passed, their bond only grew stronger. Despite their ages, they were more similar than they were different. Each held pains close to their heart, experienced great loss, and grew up in a realm where evils were celebrated like glorious holidays. To an extent, one had to be dark to survive the Black Realm, and it was only a matter of time before those of pure, innocent, or naïve hearts had the flooring ripped out from under their feet. Reality always had a twisted sense of humor. It broke the weak and led the privileged to insanity. Most importantly, it never discriminated.

A sharpening stone ran the length of her blade as she sat on her bed. The methodic motion soothed her into a trance-like state; her gazed fixed, unseeing. That was until a soft thump followed by the flutter of wings at her opened window broke her daze.

A crinkled and folded envelope rested on the windowsill. She picked it up and examined it, making note of the rich texture and thickness. Her brows furrowed as she lifted the wax seal and read it aloud.

_Emma,_

_Meet me at the concealed gate on the western side of the palace at high noon. Tread lightly and do not be late. I have a surprise in order, so punctuality is a must._

_If you happen to be stopped and questioned, just inform them that you are the new coin presser's apprentice. He's a gullible soul and a personal friend. If you are not at the gates on my arrival, I will search you out there._

_See you shortly, and happy name day._

_-R_

Emma cried out in excitement as she skipped over to the side of her bed, sat down, slipped on her shoes, and began to lace them up. Her fingers tumbled over each other as she wove the strings with haste. Once they were laced up, she grabbed her leather jerkin and put it on over her stained and dingy yet clean button up shirt. She took one glance at herself and cringed. Filth—the first word that came to mind. She had the look of a common peasant. Tattered and worn breeches with multiple mismatched patches, hems still caked in mud at the leg despite being washed not but two days ago. A discolored shirt only partially covered by a blemished jerkin which had blackened spots all in thanks to her misguided adventures with fire. At least her hair was clean and dirt-free.

She didn't know why she suddenly cared. Regina had seen her numerous times in such attire, and in even worse on occasion. She remembered the time when Regina first saw her all bloodied, tattered, torn, and dirty. She knew she stunk, too. Earlier that day, she'd had a duel with a tusked hog. The hog won for the most part, leaving Emma with plenty of battle scars, but Emma came out on top in the end after several well-placed arrows and dagger wounds to the base of its head. Luckily, it had been a small hog. Regina looked slightly horrified but only because of the amount of blood. Regina didn't seem to care as she had brought the young girl into a hug.

Still this was Regina, and for some unexplained reason, she just wanted to look nice. Emma felt close to the older girl. She felt giddy around her, constantly wanting to impress—make her laugh and smile. Oh gods, did she hate when she would blush a furious red after doing something awkward. The feeling of shyness and reserve definitely felt new, but as she thought of all that a huge grin split across her young face. Her state of dress would have to do. She snatched a few other items up and headed for the palace.

* * *

Emma stood at a large wall covered with thick vines. She knew the place well despite never having visited it in person. Regina described it perfectly. She sat down right next to the metal braced wooden gate. It too was covered in a thick array of vines and vegetation. Her back fell against the soft cushioning and she waited.

"Hi," a timid voice spoke from off to the side.

Emma whipped her head around and saw a sight she would never forget.

On a normal day, Emma would see Regina in plain jodhpurs or breeches, a shirt, and vest. But now, she was dressed in an immaculate yet simple white dress. It flowed with grace at each step; hanging loosely but flattering her stature at the same time. Her dark hair was pulled back and fixed into a bun. Her vibrant smile blasted through Emma's soul. That's when she noticed the necklace that hung around the older girl's neck. It was the necklace she made for her. Emma smiled inwardly at seeing it, but she couldn't help but think it out of place.

Regina looked breathtaking, so much that Emma sat speechless, in awe of the beautiful girl in front of her. She looked like a goddess or a character out of one of her stories; the type of natural beauty only found in books and writings.

Emma might have been young, but she knew beauty when found and how extraordinary it could be.

Coming out of her stupor, she jumped to her feet and struggled for words. Her nerves fired with anxiety as she shifted from one foot to the other while wringing her hands together.

Regina found the display and young girl even more enduring.

"Your Highness," Emma said with a bow as she tried to cover her blush. When she looked up, she noticed Regina had raised an eyebrow, both in question and teasing. "What? I can finally call you that here."

"Indeed. Well, if I am a Princess, then I request to be escorted by the most honored, trained, and skilled guardsman royalty can obtain … a Knight. As you can see, my private guard is away … will you do me the honor, Swan?"

Emma smiled at the playfulness and glee in Regina's eyes. Since giving her the necklace and speaking of her middle name, Regina had called her Swan on a few occasions, mostly either out of irritation or banter.

She nodded her head and held out her arm for Regina to take.

Regina began to lead them away. "Come along, before someone sees us."

As they walked the grounds, Emma noticed that they were drawing further and further from the palace itself and more into this vast area of land. The land itself held loads of beauty, but its appearance led Emma to believe it wasn't an immediate extension of the palace. The rest of the palace grounds were immaculately kept and groomed, whereas this land seemed more in disrepair and neglected.

"Where are we?" Emma asked as they came upon a large tree. The circumference had to be as wide as Emma and Regina both side-by-side, arms stretched out.

"On the western grounds. These are our private lands. Still under the protection of the palace, but not opened to those without nobility. It is just that—more private."

"Is it wise for us to be here … for me to be here?" Emma asked as she looked over her shoulder, constantly keeping alert for potential danger. Her eyes scanned the semi-open space around them. "What if your mother sees?"

"She never visits these grounds. If she steps outside, it will always be in the southern courtyard. It is far more elegant. And you are with me. No one will dare question you in my presence."

She could tell Emma was still tense.

"You have no reason to be nervous. It is just us here."

Emma laughed out loud and said in a worried voice. "These are the Dark Palace's grounds. I have every right to be nervous. People like me just don't waltz onto the grounds like this."

"You are not just anyone, Emma. You are my best friend. It is your name day, and I wanted to give you your surprise here, at my home. You are my honored guest for the day."

"It is beautiful here. I've always imagined what it would be like. What'd it smell like—look like. The closest I've ever ventured is the main gate and even then I'm threatened by the guards. Never enough of a glance to tell what lies beyond the great wall."

"Well, now you are finally able to see and behold its wonder," she said teasingly with mirth in her eyes. "Perhaps one day, I might even be able to escort you on a tour of the palace. My chambers, while of insignificance to others, contain all that is important to me. Shelves stocked end to end, floor to ceiling with books. A balcony that faces the woodlands—perfect for sitting out under the night sky and watch as the stars flicker above. A desk supplied with a quill, inkwell, and rolls of parchment paper for me to write upon. That room was my escape until I met you."

"Thanks for asking me here."

"Happy Name Day, Emma," Regina said as she leant down to place an affectionate kiss against her cheek. She couldn't suppress her grin as she noticed the tinge of pink that adorned Emma's cheeks.

The moment was cut short when Emma's face contorted in confusion. She leaned back and looked around.

"Hey, what's that?" Emma asked as she strained her ears to hear more. Movement caught her eyes out in the distance. It sounded like dogs barking … a pack of dogs. Deep growls and snarls. Large dogs.

Her eyes widened in panic. She had heard that sound before while on hunts. It was a group of hunting dogs. Trained to hunt and kill on command. Feral beasts, discriminating between no one that got in their way.

"Get back to the gates," she voiced and turned to look at the Princess. "Now!"

Just then, a lead dog came bursting into view, teeth bared and angry.

Emma grasped her dagger with shaky hands as she waved it back and forth between threatening beasts. Right now, she spotted four, and two of them had her corralled. She heard Regina scream in the distance. She turned toward the scream and when she did, one of the dogs lunged.

From her defensive stance, she caught the dog right between the ribs with her dagger, but the weight of the animal threw her off balance and she fell, losing her hold on the dagger in the process.

Sensing her vulnerability, the other dog pounced and grabbed her arm in its mouth. It chewed and jerked from her arm, down to her wrist, down to her hand as she blindly searched for her dagger.

Another scream sounded.

Determined, she found a jagged rock, grasped it tightly, and bashed the animal right in the mouth. It yelped and drew away as Emma finally found her dagger.

"Regina!" she shouted as she plunged her dagger into the large dog above her. The beast immediately collapsed on top of her, but she managed to wiggle herself free. But that's when she saw Regina fighting off another dog.

Something snapped within her at the sight. A sensation she had never felt before. It felt like white-hot rage ripping through her very being; blasting through whatever reserve and limitations had been ingrained within her. Her body screamed to protect. To eliminate the threat looming over her loved one. But it also felt dark—haunting. Not a pleasant feeling. I was all consuming as she ran toward Regina with absolute tunnel vision. Indescribable power surged from her fingertips down to her toes as her small hands and arms finally wrapped themselves around the beast's neck and with one enormous jerk, she snapped the vile creature's neck.

Her hands trembled as she fell to her knees next to Regina's bleeding body. Her hands burned, vibrated with an odd energy, but she pushed that away and focused solely on her best friend.

"Regina?" she said trying to coax the girl's head and upper body into her lap as well as gain her attention. Mentally, Emma looked over her injuries. The worst appeared to be at her neck, toward her collar, and the lower portion of her face. She also had defensive bites on her hands and arms. Blood and torn flesh marred the once flawless skin.

"I tho—thought you said your blade w—wasn't … sharp," Regina said between breaths. She cringed when she tried to move her head.

Emma smiled sadly at her attempt at a joke.

"Yeah, well, don't let it deceive you."

The sound of hurried footsteps drew her attention away from Regina. Two men were running toward them. They were probably answering to Emma's cries for help; pleas that she did not even remember voicing.

Dane saw his injured Princess and bolted to them, throwing whatever he carried to the side.

"What happened?!" he demanded as he scooped Regina up into his lap. Feverishly, he brushed the hairs from her eyes. He saw the wounds and inhaled shakily. "Damn you!" he spoke to no one in particular, but his harsh gaze told Emma he was partially speaking to her.

Emma struggled to form words. "She—she …"

"What girl? Speak!"

"She was attacked by a pack of dogs! They attacked us! I tried …"

He dismissed her and another armed man grabbed Emma by the arm. His grip felt bruising as he restrained her. "Call the nursemaids—quickly!" Dane informed him. "Get all available from the infirmary!

"Shall I bring her?" the other guard asked. "Perhaps she should be questioned by the Queen."

"No, no. Leave her. One life is all we need to lose this night. She's but a child."

The guard ran off leaving Emma at the mercy of Dane. He looked at her hard, yet forgiving as if he knew the significance of her presence. He wanted to offer her aid for her own injuries, but knew it would put her more in harm's way. Instead, he said, "Now leave, before you are seen."

He hoisted Regina up into his arms, cradling her protectively against his chest as he ran to the palace. Emma stood still, half in terror, half in shock. Her leg, arm, and wrist all throbbed as blood flowed freely from them. She dropped to her knees hoping to ease her unsteady legs. When she looked up, her gaze settled on the spot Dane had once stood. There, not but a few paces away, lay something in the soft foliage. It appeared square and brown. She crawled over to it and found an old book bound in leather and gold embossing. She couldn't understand the language on the front cover, but once she flipped to the first page, she discovered its contents. The book held hundreds of pages of mythical folklore, tall tales, and fairy-tales: all grand adventures written in beautiful scroll across the heavy pages. This must have been Regina's surprise; a book to entertain Emma's inventive imagination. That's when she noticed a second, slightly smaller book, only this one was full of empty pages. She looked at it with curiosity until a handwritten note fell from behind the front cover.

_Time to fill these pages with stories and adventures of your very own. This is just the first volume, so do not hold back._

_-R_

Tears burned and swelled within her eyes as guilt and anger surged within her. Her hands still shook from the excitement of the terrifying encounter. Trying not to get any more blood on the beautiful books, she took them into her arms and limped home.

* * *

The Queen stood outside on her balcony, hands pressed against the smooth dark marble as Dane entered her chambers without announcement or warning.

"Your Majesty," Dane greeted as he dipped in a low bow. Her back remained turned toward him, but he continued anyway. "The Princess has been gravely injured."

He was covered in the Princess's blood. He had just delivered her to the physicians in her chambers. Out of breath from his frantic pace, he awaited her response.

"Yes, indeed," she acknowledged and then turned to him. "What of the girl?" she asked.

He didn't answer immediately as he was under the impression the Queen knew nothing of her own daughters activities beyond the palace walls, and he wasn't about to unveil her cover. "Do you think me stupid?" the Queen asked in a low growl. "What of the girl?" She spoke every syllable slowly.

Dane swallowed as he answered. Of course the Queen knew. Why wouldn't she? "She's left the grounds. Went back to her home."

"Excellent. So we shall begin. Tell me, Dane, do you know how to make greatness? How to shape—mold someone into the perfect role? How to squeeze out every ounce of weakness?"

Again he swallowed, trying but failing to ease his nerves. He kept his body taut and his gaze focused. "No, Majesty."

Cora sauntered over to him like a predator sizing up its prey. He stood fast, unwavering as the temptress drew far too close. She smiled wickedly at him as her long fingernail traced a path from the base of his ear, down his jaw, and to his chin.

"You break them," she whispered. "Strip them down 'til they no longer recognize who they were. You create a blank slate. Then when the time is right, you build them back piece by piece, careful to mind each and every placement—every lesson."

She pulled away and her smirk unnerved him.

"My daughter will be an excellent ruler, Dane. She's been hard to break thus far, but I believe it can be done given the right … incentive.

She motioned for a concealed guard to move into action. He stepped forward and restrained Dane before kicking his legs out from under him, forcing Dane to his knees.

He looked up to the Queen as she looked down at him. How fitting.

"Today was our first lesson of many. Now begins the next step," she said ominously.

* * *

Afternoon turned to evening as Emma slowly approached her house. Exhaustion, pain, and blood loss were all taking their toll on her. Each step labored as her body fought not to collapse under the emotional weight. She still clung to both books as if they were her lifeline, even as she had considered leaving them behind, safely hidden away for her to retrieve on another day. But she wouldn't part with them. They meant too much now.

Her young mind kept replaying each vicious scene after the other. She tried to chase away the guilt and foreboding thoughts, but they kept resurfacing like balsa wood on water. Her knees shook, threatening to give way but the soft forest duff actually looked quite appealing; maybe just as comfortable as her bed at home.

She saw her mother outpacing the length of their dirt pathway. Emma made a strangled cry at the welcomed sight of her mother.

"Emma!" her mother called upon hearing the soft whimper. Mary Margaret ran to her and gasped when she saw her daughter covered in blood; automatically assuming the worst. "Sweetheart, what happened? Gods you're hurt!" She tore open her vest looking for injuries to her midsection, but after finding none, she went to her limbs, tearing at the fabric that concealed the bulk of her wounds.

With Emma braced against her, Mary Margaret led them the few steps back to the house. "Danny," Mary Margaret hollered, "fetch me a cloth.

She pulled up a chair next to the wash bin and had Emma sit down. "Look at me. What happened?" she asked as she began cleaning the wounds. Danny was seated not far off, watching with rapt attention.

"Regina—" Emma began as tears began to flow. "They—they got her. She's hurt. I tried to fight 'em off, but—"

"I'm sure Regina will be just fine, sweetheart." Mary Margaret soothed.

"You don't understand! It happened outside the palace! She … she's the Princess … and I let her down! They'll come after me for hurting her and what if I never see her again! What if she dies because of me?!"

Mary Margaret, taken aback at her daughter's outburst, tried to reassure her. "Emma, Regina's not the Prin—"

Just then a haunting sound ripped the words straight from her mouth. She paled and her wide eyes looked directly at her daughter. Bells. Palace bells ringing in the distance. Under normal circumstances, the tolling bells could signify a multitude of things, but something told Mary Margaret, as well as Emma, that these particular bells rang for either injury or death of royalty.

"Oh Gods," Mary Margaret whispered.

Emma watched her mother fall into a fit of panic, but before she could react, her world started to spin and all went dark.


	5. Chapter IV - The God of Than

**AN: Okay, so this chapter has always given me trouble. No matter how many times I rewrite it, I'm never satisfied with it. I think I just have a specific imagine in mind and am not happy with how it has transcribed to paper. So just to clarify, these three kingdoms are essentially three separate worlds with different advancements in each realm. So I wrote this chapter as this particular realm being more advanced in the technological sense and also environment wise than the White or Black. I've also tried to explain this "energy" or "force" source that was used in the Prologue and will continue to have a huge influence on the story hence forward. All that being said, this is an integral chapter to the story as a whole and I hope I've done it justice. Please let me know what you think as reviews, favorites, and follows are always appreciated. :)  
**

* * *

**Chapter IV - The God of Than**

_**Present time, in the year of 2e14 on the 25****th**** day of The Shadow of Darkness.**_

A heavy tremor penetrated her dream world as it quickly drew her from her sleep. She awoke with a start. The sensation of falling becoming all too real as she swore she felt the building quake and sway. She panted lightly and wiped at the sweat collecting at her brow and at the crevice of her chin and eyes. It had just been a dream.

Too often she dreamt of her past. That was all she had left of it. Her dreams, memories, and the permanent markings etched deep into her skin were all she had left of her past life. Sometimes she wished she would fall asleep and never wake from her dream world. It had been a hard few years—full of suffering and despair, but at least she was not alone anymore, at least not literally. The warm body hovering as close to the opposite edge of the bed as possible was evident of that. As if the mere prospect of touching her body would breach some unwritten law.

Emma turned her head forward and focused on an unseen spot on the ceiling. She counted to ten as she tried to calm her racing heart and pulsing temples. Trembling fingers touched at the tender skin as she took a moment to appraise the thick and mangled scars that formed over and constricted the skin of her palm. The scars were still so very sensitive to touch, weather, and movement. She eyed them with a sense of abhorrence, but also respect because without them, she wouldn't have had to suffer so greatly, but she also wouldn't have lived the best years of her young life. Bittersweet was a fitting term. She might have lived in the past, but it was those positive memories that allowed her to move forward, hoping and praying to the few gods who would listen that she might be able to experience them once again.

Frankly, she should have been grateful for what she had, for the life she lived, and she certainly was. No doubt there. She had what most did not. A respected title, a warm place to lie her head at night, a home, food to keep her belly satisfied, and possessions that many would never see in their lifetime. But none of that meant much to her. Those were material possessions at best. They didn't fill her empty heart or liven her mind. Instead of living the new life she was granted, she was merely existing, and, for now at least, that was just barely enough.

Just as her eyes grew heavy for the fifteenth time of that night, a violent tremor shook the earth and drew her attention back to the cause of her waking. Her eyes sprung open as she sat ramrod straight in her bed, covers pooling at her waist, catching up to her movements.

Then, there was the faintest of sounds. A drawling horn muffled by the distance. Her brows furrowed as she continued to listen with strained ears. Realization quickly dawned on her and her eyes widened. The siren. To her knowledge it had never sounded before, but thanks to her training she understood what it meant. Pandemonium had unleashed itself somewhere within the city. The God of Than was shouting his full glory, bringing hell and chaos to the Gray. She glanced over to the still sleeping form occupying her bed. Thank the gods the young woman was still asleep. The last thing Emma wanted to deal with was a hundred questions because honestly, she would have no answers.

Ever so easily, Emma slipped from the cool covers and walked over to the window where she pulled back a section of the thick, light-dampening drape. The soft shine of the exterior lights on their housing building seeped through the opening and cast a pale light upon Emma's bare skin. It was still too dark to really see anything. The soft white glow of the street lanterns below did nothing to uncover the cause of the alarm.

The rumpling of sheets drew her attention away from the window, and she turned to address the young woman who was spending yet another evening with her.

"What time is it?" the tawny haired woman asked groggily as she stretched under the covers. She was oblivious to the distant sounding alarm. Emma regarded her with a soft smile, not wanting to evoke unnecessary panic or worry. Just because their friendship had gone awry, didn't mean Emma cared for her any less. Numbness was just another sentiment unfortunately garnered by life, and Kate was an easy escape. It was an escape for both of them. They both gained from their empty arrangement, so where was the harm in feeling less alone.

"Early, go back to sleep—" Emma was interrupted by a bright light, followed by a roaring thunder, and the violent shake of the building.

Kate bolted upright in the bed and looked around wide-eyed.

"Em! What's happening?!" she yelled in a panic as she threw off the covers.

Emma cursed as she yanked open the drapes, uncaring of her current state of undress. Her eyes darted around the skyline and focused on a large glowing area. It was on fire, and the embers were pulsating lazily. Just as that episode had finished, another blazing trail of light flew across the city and hit. It exploded, and a flurry of sparks littered the sky. "Oh Gods!" Emma gasped. It was all happening too fast.

"Em?" Kate called as she grabbed the thin bed sheet and wrapped it around herself.

"Kate," Emma said as calmly as her racing heart would allow. "I need you to get dressed, quickly. Then get to my washroom and slide the door shut. Stay away from the windows and outside walls."

"The washroom? Why must I get in the washroom? And where are you going?!"

"Kate," she said impatiently. She knew she should have been more tolerant of her long time bedfellow, but panic was setting in and she didn't have the time nor desire to explain anymore. Mostly because she didn't know what was happening herself.

Kate looked at her expectantly.

"Just get in the room, and don't come out until I tell you too. You're safest in there. I don't think you could make it home." Emma ordered right before another tremor gripped the building.

"Wait? What about you?"

"I'm part of the Council. I need to be there." Emma stated as she turned to locate any piece of clothing she could place her hands on. A hand covered her shoulder, forcing her to turn and look once again at Kate.

"You're leaving?" she asked.

"I have to go, Kate. You'll be safe here," Emma stated.

For a second in time, Emma saw the vulnerable nature Kate had been careful not to displayed. It was the same look Emma vowed never to be the cause of, and it broke her further to know she was part of the reason for it. Oh the dark depths human emotion can plummet. "Promise?" she asked, and Emma did not have the courage to answer.

The building shook fiercely once more, and Emma could see the fear in her friend's eyes. Emma, herself, tried to mask her own uncertainties. She didn't answer, just merely pushed the woman in the direction of her washroom. "Just stay put."

It took a few seconds for her body to become orientated with her mind, but once it was clear what she needed to do, she leapt from her spot and grabbed the nearest pair of breeches before unceremoniously stuffing her moving legs into the material. She barreled her way through the narrow hallway, clashing at times violently with the facing walls before she came to another door. Without knocking, she entered the room and went straight for the lone bed.

"Ryker!" She yelled as she forcefully shook his still form. How in the three was he still asleep? Her house-mate was a heavy sleeper; that much was obviously clear. "RYKER!" she yelled once again and stretched out her hand, palm first and lit several white domes around the room. It was early dawn, and the domes provided much needed light to the otherwise dark room.

"What the … _Swan_!" he bellowed, still half asleep.

"Listen …" she hissed. Her eyes wide in panic as the alarm was now sounding loudly. It had finally reached their district.

He stilled, and his eyes drifted from her face. Her grip on his nightshirt lessened, and realization struck him with fierce ferocity. "No …" he muttered as if he were in a daze.

"My thoughts exactly, but that's not all."

Just as the words left her mouth, a bright light was seen through the closed blinds, and the sky roared, and the earth rumbled.

"What's that?!"

"Trouble," she answered with emphasis. "Here, get dressed," she said as she threw a pair of pants at him that she had found in a pile on the floor.

He gawked at her. His mind still somewhat fuzzy from being awoken in the dead of sleep. "Right!" he said quickly and began to pull them on. Emma, not moving an inch, remained at the opened window. The wooden blind was bent down thanks to pressure from her finger as she watched the mayhem unfold outside. They were several stories up, in a newly constructed concrete building, but she could feel the atmosphere changing. It was an odd sense, to say the least. The sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon, turning the sky a refreshing milky blue and orange. It was enough to illuminate the cityscape and to finally see the chaos unfolding outside their confines.

Raging up, into the heavens above, was a swirling cloud that looked to be black in the middle. It looked like cancer growing in contrast to the neutral sky. Outer rings circled and curved menacingly around the vortex as the abomination seemed to still in its growth. Suddenly, plumes of black and orange propelled from the mass above and hurtled toward the ground. There was a bright light, a boom, and a tremor. In its wake; streets and buildings were charred and damaged. She could see people moving sporadically, like animals evading a predator.

Whatever she was looking at was definitely cause for the alarm.

She exited the room and went through the hallways and main dining area, arms stretched out parallel to the floor and ceiling. Light after light dissipated as the receptors on her wrist absorbed the light's energy, causing in turn, her bracelets to glow with reserved energy.

Soon enough, Ryker had met Emma outside where pandemonium was unleashed all around. "Do you think it's a drill? And what is that thing?" Ryker asked as he struggled to tuck in his shirt. They were hustling down the crowded and disordered streets. People were in a panic as they should have been. The alarms were still wailing at five second intervals, and eruptions of light and thunder could be heard and felt.

"I think the giant flaming balls falling from the sky is indication enough that no, this is not a drill. Even if it were, there would've been some type of alert or message. Our communications are even down, which tells me this, unfortunately, is all too real."

"What'd we do?" he asked breathlessly.

Emma squared her jaw as she nervously fumbled with the thick, steel bracelets on her wrists. They glowed with nervous energy. A byproduct of reserved power that was created when she "called" all the lights within the home. Instead of an energy or force being extinguished, it was merely transferred to one's bracelets as a form of transferable energy. Emma was only one of a few who could perform the difficult task of transference. "What we're doing now," she spoke with false confidence. "We're going to the Capitol. See what needs to be done."

They continued their hasty pace as the large concrete and steel buildings began to tower even more menacingly over them. The air was heavy and acrid, and smell of sulfur and chemicals. Emma had offhandedly noticed the ground tremors, and thunderous roars had dissipated greatly since their departure from their housing unit. The chaos and resounding panic, however, did not. Soon, the mirrored reflection of the elegant Capital building came into view. It was a domed shaped building covered in steel, concrete, and reflective glass. Off on its own, it would have drawn crowds by the thousands for its sheer beauty and breath-taking ambiance. It still held its awe-inspiring splendor, but because it was centered downtown among similarly constructed buildings, it did not receive the attention it deserved. A large moat surrounded the perimeter of building, and had numerous fountains that jetted gracefully into the air. The fountains themselves were only thick metal rings that were suspended three feet in the air. The rings, much like the ones worn on every wrist, drew the water up, creating the illusion of floating fountains. Bridges arched seamlessly over the crystal clear waters at begged entrance to the grounds of the Capital.

Emma could still recall the moment she entered The Gray. Granted, she had been inside the very building upon transfer, but once she exited and walked out onto the streets. She nearly fainted. The Gray was different in every single aspect. Far more advanced, almost like a completely separate world, and it very well could have been.

The Gray Kingdom, just like it's other kin, was astoundingly different in all regards possible. The way of life, the internal structure of the city, buildings, materials, and even humans themselves were as diverse as a snowflake that fell on a winter's morning. Of course, this was true for all Realms, but the Gray, as with the White and Black, held their own beliefs and systems. What was done within the Gray was most likely not done in either the White or the Black.

As they approached two glass doors, Emma raised her right arm and pointed her palm to the receiving device attached to the doors at the side. Her bracelet and the receiving device both glowed as the doors slide open.

"I wish I had that much control over it," Ryker stated somewhat sourly. He always envied the control and ability to manipulate the energy fields that Emma held. It was like she had trained her whole life in the art, but in reality, it had only been a few years. He, however, having been born in one of the "light" realms, had practiced since birth.

"You'll get there. Just takes time, practice, and patience. I know you severely lack in one area," she said teasingly despite the heavy atmosphere around them. "But you'll get there."

They walked through the sparsely populated atrium, heading directly for the tower steps when a voice called out and echoed off the grand walls.

"Emma!" an older gentleman called. It was Kael, the eldest High Council member. "Oh, thank the Gods you're here! We have a serious situation," the older man spoke as he held a hand to his chest and panted. He was wearing his usual navy mantle over a white collared shirt and brown breeches. A heavy chain and pendant bearing the symbol of The Realms of Thrice hung low down to his belly, swinging out with his movements.

"Don't we know it," Ryker muttered out of breath, and cause Emma to roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Here, quickly, we must go to the inner sanctum. Everyone else is already present." Kael stated as he ushered Emma and Ryker to the tower steps and began their ascent to the top most floors.

"Everyone else?" Emma asked as they climbed step after step. She was curious as to who else might be present in this time of uncertainty and danger.

"Yes, apparently we are not the only realm who is experiencing this horrid weather. Several advisors from the white and Gray arrived."

"I would hardly call this weather," Ryker muttered

"Then what would you call it," he asked plainly as he turned and addressed him. Ryker, turned to Emma hoping for some assistance, but Emma had no beneficial answer either, so he averted her eyes.

"That's our thought, as well. We simply do not know." Kale said.

When they entered the legendary room, several members of the council were already seated at a large round table. Others were standing in pairs, conversing about the events of the day. The inner sanctum of The Gray was polished and sophisticated, carved mostly from ash granite with metal beams positioned methodically throughout the room. The air there was clean and light as it filled the lungs, and the morning sun brightened the room from the full-ceiling skylight.

"Greetings fellow council members and advisors," Kael spoke as he motioned for the few remaining occupants standing to come forth to the table. "As I'm sure you're well aware we have a growing situation taking place as we speak. Master Anders is on his way, but while we await his arrival, we have his former apprentice, Emma, here with us along with her partner, Ryker. As most of you know she is our resident Scout and is quite adept in the area of transcendence. We might be able to use her knowledge and skill on this matter. Is everyone ready and accounted for?" Kael spoke as he addressed his council.

There were exactly six members of the High Council in each realm, but the current inhabitants of the sanctum ranged anywhere from High Council members, to Scouts, Port Keepers, Transcendent Masters, and even a few apprentices. Eighteen bodies total gathered around the round table as the eldest member spoke.

A young man, not yet in his early thirties stood from his seat and spoke directly to Kael. "Not quite, Sir," he stated with a slight quiver. "The Black Realm is unresponsive. No communications are coming in or out, and their advisors are not yet present," he stated.

All thirty-six eyes looked to a large circular ring that was etched into the alabaster stone right above the Transcendent Portal. On the outer ring of the circle, there were three half globe shaped stones placed equally apart across the diameter of the outer circle, and each represented one of the three kingdoms of Thrice.

When the stone of the corresponding kingdom glowed, it signified the opening and use of a portal, thus creating a rudimentary method of communication between realms. Now, however, the stone of dark remained unlit between the other two glowing and slowly pulsating orbs.

"Is it on our side or theirs?" Kael asked as his thin fingers toyed with the pendant around his neck.

"Unknown, Sir. This phenomenon has scrambled our signals. We were extremely lucky that the advisors from The White transcended without incident."

"Are the portals even functional?" Another council member asked. The tension in the room was thickening with each passing breath.

"Unknown, Madam. Though, they did work momentary minutes prior. That's how most are present."

"Is it not odd that The Black is unresponsive at this critical time?" An advisor from the White spoke. His name was Alok, and many did not favor him as he was seen to be extremely arrogant and difficult. He had long blonde hair that fell freely except for a small braided section which rested against the side of his head. His eyes were cold and calculated and he always wore a sickening smirk.

"I believe it's just a coincidence, Sir. I've seen no activity to give lead otherwise. Besides, they're not capable of these actions. They're simply not this advanced. The Black is more about brute force and violence. With respect council members this is something different. Almost otherworldly," the young man stated as he shifted nervously in his chair.

"So we don't know what that thing is out there?" Emma asked. Seeing her own chance to ask questions. "It's destroying the damn city, and we don't know how to stop it?!"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Emma." Kael addressed her gently. "We don't know for sure, but we think it's a trans-atmospheric portal. The first of its kind."

"A trans-what?" she asked. She had never heard of such a thing.

"A trans-atmospheric portal." Kael clarified. "We don't have much knowledge where this is concerned but what we believe is eventually, in an unspecified and unknown time, all three worlds will be pulled into the portal and … they'll cease to exist."

"You mean … the realms will be destroyed?" Emma asked, disbelieving.

"Obliterated … erased completely in the most horrifying of manners. _Everyone_ will die. Think of it as a series of actions: suffocation and insurmountable pressure. That's how everyone will die. Through suffocation and crushing weight as the Realms collapse."

"Well … what do we do to stop it?" Ryker asked.

"That's … a complicated answer, at best. But I think the first place to start is to travel to The Black and find out what exactly, if anything, is going on there. They easily could be experiencing the same thing we are and are just unable to communicate with us." Kael spoke, and a few of the other council members nodded their heads in agreement.

"So, what? It just continues to destroy the city will we devise a plan to stop it?"

"It had a volatile entrance, no doubt. Anything created such as that will be unstable at the beginning. We can only hope that, like all other portals, it will stabilize once the atmospheric pressure has reached equilibrium and the portal has had adequate time to adjust."

"All right," Emma said. "What needs to be done?"

"Well, first we need a new advisor to The Black. They won't think too kindly if we send a stranger with no title into their Realm demanding answers and corporation. That will achieve exactly nothing, moreover, it could seriously hinder our efforts."

"I agree," a council woman spoke as she addressed the room.

"So who here wishes to represent the dark realm?" Kael asked, and the room suddenly became silent. The occupants dropped their heads and only made eye contact with their peers.

"I will, Sir." Emma spoke up as she stepped forward and moved in front of the eldest council member. She could hear the sharp inhale behind her. Apparently, Ryker did not see her impending decision. She halfway expected him to step up with her, and she was slightly disappointed, but not discouraged that she would be making this tough trip alone.

"You? Truly?" another council member spoke. The woman was obviously surprised.

"Yes, I have history there," Emma confirmed. "As you and the council are very much aware of the history I have in The Realm of Black. That is why you hired me, yes? I spent my childhood there, and until my twelfth name day, I was a resident of The Black, that was until that same day that I left and became a resident of The Gray. I do have extensive knowledge of the dark realm. Something I'm sure your council is quite lacking in. And while this will inevitably bring back unpleasant memories, I am willing."

Several of the members looked to each other and some were even mumbling under their breaths.

"Very well, Emma. Then you shall go—"

"I'll go with her!" Ryker said suddenly as he too stepped forward and lined himself up to Emma's side. She smiled.

"Very well Mister Tibbins, then you both shall go."

"Emma, do you remember how to transcend freely as a pair?"

"Of course, Sir. It is a trade one is best not to forget."

"Very good. I think it's best for you not to use the transcendent portals located in the Spheric Sanctums. At least until we travel through them. We don't know what dangers might present themselves or if they would even work.

"I thought we trusted the new Lord of The Black Realm?"

"We do, but who's to say the portals haven't been tampered with? In that case, who knows what horrific end would meet someone in circumstance. This is an unprecedented situation. Anything could trigger a further collapse of the trans-atmospheric portal or instability within our transportation system. I'm fairly confident, however, the free portals are safe."

"What makes you so sure? They all travel the same paths," a council member spoke.

"They don't," Emma chimed in, excited to use her extensive knowledge on the matter.

She had been one of the lucky few to actually receive an education while in The Black, mostly because her mother was an educator in The White before her banishment. Formal knowledge was a privileged only given to those of power and status within the dark, and since Emma was neither, she had to rely on the teachings of her mother until she was of age. Thankfully, those same skills and wisdom granted her the opportunity for success within the Gray.

"I can't explain it exactly," she began. "It's all very complicated and concerns many other factors. But the official portals travel a set and defined path or trajectory between space. They are unaltered and cannot be altered by any type of man-made force. The Transcendent Portals of the Spheric Sanctums have one end result: transference directly to another, nowhere else. There can be no interruption. But free travel, it utilizes different paths and an altogether dissimilar principle. Think of it as cheating the system. Free travel was not meant to be. Since there are no set paths, there's no way to detect a particular location. You're flying blindly in the infinite spectrum of space, but that gives us an advantage."

"Explain that in common terms please, Miss Swan." Alok spoke critically. His eyes narrowed as he appraised her, desperately seeking to find a flaw.

"Basically, there are so many paths that can be taken, it is virtual impossible for this means of travel to be interrupted or tampered with. Why do you think it is illegal not only to teach such a method, but to perform it? Death is a guaranteed sentence to the very few who know and have known how to perform it. It's an unnecessary and dangerous risk to all realms. It's a closely guarded secret that very few know."

"It seems that you know of it, Miss Swan, and have used it on countless occasions," Alok said.

Ignoring the previous comment, another council member spoke. "What makes you so sure of this?"

"I'm not a hundred percent certain of anything, Council Member. I'm simply going on the best of my knowledge. I was trained to transcend freely. Makes the job of a Scout much easier if undetected. This phenomenon … this trans—this portal, has never happened before, so there is a possibly I'm completely wrong. But as of right now, it seems we have nothing else to go on. No other facts remain than what's been spoken within these walls. And this is a risk I'm willing to take. I've transcended to more precarious locations than this."

"Very good, Emma. So here's an outline_,_ so to speak_. _Go to the dark realm. Don't attract any more attention than need be, as of yet. They have a prisoner who just might know how to stop all this, and the last thing we want is Lord Tyron feeling threatened or backed into a corner. I don't know how, yet, but we'll try to get some type of rudimentary communication established with them. Once that happens, we'll be on our way shortly after your departure. If we're not there by the time you make contact with Tyron, let him know you titles, and state your business. Hopefully he'll let you speak to the prisoner, and you can already have had some type of dialogue going at that point."

"All right, and, Sir? Who is the prisoner? Just out of curiosity."

"The former Queen."

Emma's blood ran cold, and her limbs grew heavy at the utterance of that name. Cora. That was whom she was to speak with. The very woman whose daughter's disappearance, or presumed death, had haunted Emma's dreams these many a year. The same woman who showed cruelty not only to her subjects, but her own flesh and blood, as well. The mother of the girl who still held Emma's heart. This would be an interesting and painful few hours. Hours that she silently prayed would end as soon as they began.

"Do you think this will all be here when we get back?" Ryker asked as both he and Emma walked out of the sanctum and headed to a nearby supply room. Not much was needed in that regard. Both needed to charge their receptors on the off chance they couldn't make it to a charging globe or their stay required more time that originally expected.

A glass door slide open and they both walked in. Emma moved to the charging globe and moved one wrist at a time over the white, pulsating half-globe. Her bracelets glowed a bright white, for but a few seconds. She rubbed her wrists absentmindedly before stepping away to allow Ryker to do the same.

Whereas he didn't have control over the energy force as Emma did, it was still a way of life for all Greyonians and Lightatonians. People within the dark kingdom never learned how to properly use their receptors. The crude bars and discs mounted on their hands had one sole purpose—control. Control through pain and intimidation, and it worked. The souls within the black never fully understood their gift. For the many who were banished to The Black, their receptors were bound, never allowing them to utilize their powers.

"What d'ya mean?" Emma asked as soon as the numbing sensation left her hands and wrist.

"Home?" he clarified. "Do you think there will be much of it left when we get back?"

"I think so, but no one seems to know how that thing out there works. But in any regard, yes, I think there'll be plenty to come home too. Hopefully, we'll be back sometime today. I don't see why they would need us to stay after the information is gathered. Anyway, once we get back, we can go help clean up if you'd like."

"Probably wouldn't be much to do around anyway. At least we would put our labor to good use."

"Ready?" Emma asked as she extended her arms, palms up, awaiting Ryker to take hold.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Ryker asked as he fidgeted nervously. He had never ventured outside of The Gray Realm. All his work consisted of duties within the kingdom. He never had any reason to visit the other two worlds, so the concept of transcending and free portals went slightly over his head. He knew of their darker purpose which perhaps was why he was so anxious.

"I've done this near a thousand times, Ryker. Don't worry."

"Well, forgive me, but I do. I've never been outside the realm."

"It's different, I'll tell you that. Every realm is different, to major degrees. The White Realm is elegant and regal. It simply takes your breath away and warms your very soul. There's a richness to its people, as well. The Black Realm is strikingly the opposite. It's dark, oppressive, and unforgiving. Primitive in its ways … brutal, and its people live in absolute poverty. Each and every person fights for survival, and while there, we'll be no different. We won't be safe there," she stated solemnly. Her voice was grave as she recalled her life back in The Black. The loss of her family and best friend were still fresh regardless of the years that had passed.

"I think I like it here," Ryker spoke nervously.

"The foliage is always greener on the other side. That is until you visit the other side, and realize it's all an elaborate illusion. I've learned to be satisfied with what you have because it could always be so much worse, and taken from you in a second."

"Spoken like a true Gray," he said with a soft smile.

Emma huffed, but smiled as she spoke. "Just give me your hands. Keep your eyes closed, limbs tight and firm, and just try to relax. Oh, and I wouldn't open my mouth if I were you."

She didn't even give him a chance to respond before they disappeared into nothingness.

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**AN: From this point forward, most of my chapters are this length and longer. Do you guys like the longer chapters or would you prefer me to cut them down into smaller chapters? **

**Thanks for reading! Reviews, favorites, and follows are always appreciated! :)**


	6. Chapter V - The Return to Black

**AN: Mentions minor character death.**

**No beta so all mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer: See Prologue.**

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**Chapter V - The Return to Black**

The journey did not go as smoothly as Emma had hoped. At least not for Ryker. She was use to such travel, but her friend lacked the stomach and legs. It was an odd sensation, free transcendence. Emma related it to the feeling of falling from a tall tree. The way one's stomach lifted and slammed into their throat on descent. The landings were always much gentler, though. No broken bones, just effortless like stepping onto the sidewalk from a moving horse and buggy. Her ears would pop occasionally, and ring afterward, but nothing ever worrisome. But she knew all too well the missteps of a neophyte traveler. She had found herself all too many times face first or ungracefully falling to her rear. It was rather embarrassing, and she always took notes, learning in the "ins and outs" of travel so she would not make the same mistake twice.

Ryker, on the other hand, had an annoying habit of not following directions, which probably resulted to him lying face down on the ground spluttering and flailing like a drowning cat in a shallow puddle. He was as dramatic as one that was for certain. She was just thankful the mouthful of foliage muffled his curses. The last thing they needed was unwanted attention at this time.

"OW! I think I landed on a stick!" Ryker gasped as he coughed and spat. He obviously hadn't listened to Emma's advice about keeping his mouth shut, either. Now, he certainly had a mouthful of dead leaves, dirt, and probably a few bugs mixed in there. "Where are we anyway?" he asked as he continued to spit brown matter from his mouth. His hands worked at dusting off his clothes and rubbing at his sore chest.

Emma, oblivious to his state, looked around them with a keen eye. Her features were as tense as a drawn bow as she surveyed the area for trouble. The atmosphere and scenery brought back vivid memories. Many memories that Emma long wished to be rid of.

She recognized the surrounding woods immediately. A few yards ahead of them were a series of old tree stumps where Emma would field dress her kills before returning home. She swore she even saw the remnants of snare trap partially concealed with dead leaves.

Without looking at Ryker, she crouched down next to him and whispered quickly. "Hurry! Get up. You didn't think I was stupid enough to transport us directly into the city did you?" she asked hastily, her voice laden with uneasiness. "We would be killed on the spot, you especially. The stench of your untainted blood is unrelenting. These people are like boarhounds; strong and insistent, with a powerful sense of the weak. Make no mistake; we are far from our element here. It's like drawing moths to a flame, and we, my dear Ryker, are the brightly burning fire," she stated with an edge to her voice. She glanced around one more time before directing her attention to a spot in the east. "Come on, there's a small home right up the way. If I remember, it should have what we need inside."

They began walking the short distance. There was a small dirt path about a hundred yards from them, but Emma remembered the path could be traveled by a few people a day, and for now, she wanted to avoid all attention. The surrounding woods were just as she had remembered them, eerie and dismal as ever. The air was thin and smelled of damp, decomposing wood and moldy leaves. All of the trees were bare and thin. The snap of a limb echoed through the dead woods as it fell against other lifeless branches, finally coming to a rest at the forest floor with a hollow thump. The scurrying of dead twigs and foliage attested to the notion that the noise must have startled some wildlife.

Finally, they came up on a low ledge and looked down the couple of feet at an old, dilapidated house. Windows were shattered, holes were forming in the roof, and brush was invading the decayed wooden structure.

Emma looked on with indifference, but her eyes couldn't help but wander over to the open side-doorway that had led to their once diminutive, yet quaint kitchen. She recalled all the mornings and afternoons when her mother was at work in the garden whilst waiting for Emma and Danny to come home with fresh game or wood for the fire. Often Mary Margaret would stand in the doorway, wiping her hands on her frayed apron with the proudest of smiles upon her haggard face. She had been proud of them. Emma had always known that, and she knew her mother had given both herself and Danny the best she possibly could have.

She nudged Ryker with her shoulder and climbed down the small incline to the house.

"Where are we exactly?" he asked as his voice broke from fear. His eyes too were appraising the land around them.

"A few miles from the city," she said as she continued walking. She felt Ryker's bright hazel eyes piercing through her skull. She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. "This was my childhood home."

Ryker stopped and took a second look at the shell of the building. He scratched at the back of neck as his brow rose and his noise squinched. "Doesn't look like anyone's home," the young man said trying to lighten the mood, but he instantly regretted it when he saw Emma's stride still. "Gods, sorry, Em. I dunno why I said that. It was a misplaced joke," he said as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Think nothing of it. I know you meant no harm."

"So what's the plan?"

"No plan. At least not really. My first thought was to come here, gather some clothing, so we'd fit in more, and then walk the short distance to the city."

"Do you really think there will be supplies in there for us? It looks like it's been raided more than a few times."

"Oh, I know it has. The bastards didn't even allow my family's bodies to cool before they broke down the door and took everything. Luckily, we had several hiding places. Living in the dark realm, you learned to keep things hidden," she grunted the last word as she stepped over a section of fallen ceiling while bracing herself against the wall. It was like walking in woods littered with spring spear traps. They would have to tread lightly.

"Come on. Watch your step, though. There's a concealed lower floor, and you don't want to fall through a weak spot."

Ryker, who was stepping over the mound of debris, stopped with his right foot in midair at Emma's statement. His stilled in place, not moving an inch as his eyes shot down to the floor. Tucking his lips in-between his teeth, he took a large, hefty breath and presumed to follow Emma's lead.

"How'd you manage that?" he asked as he ducked to miss a low hanging wooden beam.

"A small sinkhole formed about a year after Danny was born. It wasn't large enough to compromise the integrity of the house, but enough where we could make use of it. We pulled up sections of the plank floor, tossed down a chair to get in and out, and made it a place to keep anything worthwhile that we had safe. It was mostly just sentimental things … junk to most. I remember I whittled a small doll from a dead branch I had found. Ma was none too happy with me because I had several nicks and was bleeding everywhere. But, stuff like that, you know, is what we saved," Emma said as she crouched down and tapped on several wood floor planks at the back of the house.

They were at the back of the house in what Ryker assumed was the bedroom. The evidence of the soiled straw and broken pieces of bed posts suggested it. It was clear the house had been used numerous times for shelter.

Emma finally hit a hollow plank and pulled a small knife from her pocket and wedged it between the two planks, lifting one ever-so-slightly with the tip of the blade. After enough planks were removed, both Emma and Ryker descended down a make-shift set of steps.

The bottom of the hole was damp and smelt of mud, mold and mildew, but there were several crates and what looked to be an old dresser off in the corner. The sinkhole was large enough that they could remain standing, just crouching forward the slightest.

"Here, this was my brothers," Emma spoke as she removed some clothing from the dresser. The first item was a pair of raggedy breeches. "He was tall for his age, so they should fit you."

"I didn't even know you had a brother." Ryker said softly. The sadness in his voice was evident of his struggle. "It's funny. I've known you for all these years. I've always felt like I knew you pretty well … but now, being here, I really don't know you at all, do I?" he asked, his voice laced with grief.

She looked to him sadly, only making eye contact for a short second before she lowered her head, and turned away from him. "You know the best parts … and for me, that's enough. But if you wish to know more … about this life, I'll share it with you."

"You don't have to, but if you ever just want to talk … ya know, get it off your chest, well, I'm here. Just so you know."

"You would have liked Danny," she began. "He was a year younger than me. We might not have shared the same father, but I loved him with all my heart. We were inseparable. You know, growing up in such a dark time where you had no one … no one to stand by your side, no one your own age to call a friend. All you had was your family. The loyalty that family brought was an invaluable gift, and it was unmatched in this realm." Emma paused as she smoothed the moth-eaten fabric between her hands. For a split moment, she lifted the shabby shirt to her nose, desperately hoping to recognize his forgotten scent, but caught herself quickly. She knew it was long gone, now replaced with the earthy air, thick with dampness and mildew. She knew the same would be true of her mother's clothing. Clothing that once held the comforting scents of barely, smoke, and sandalwood. Her nose and lips twitched with emotion as she recalled her memories. "Danny was sick one day. He had a common village illness. It was expected to pass in a few days time if he was lucky because many were known to die from it. But he was strong … strong and healthy. He would have lived, I have no doubt. Normally, he would have gone out with me, but because he was sick in bed, I had to go out on my own and fetch some game for supper. I left midmorning and was only gone for a couple of hours, at the most. And I came back with probably one of the best kills that I had made in some time. I had a couple of pheasants, one or two rabbits, and a squirrel. The game bag was slung over my shoulder, all proud, and I came upon the house. Everything was as it should have been … not a stone unturned or a blade of grass disturbed. It was exactly as I had left it," she spoke as her voice broke. Emotion taking control. She handed the shirt to Ryker hastily and walked a few paces over to a small, overturned table. She stooped down and sat against the wall as she tried her damnedest to control the tears prickling within her eyes. She would not cry.

As she composed herself, her left hand sifted through the loose sand and dirt, and happened to catch an old necklace caked in mud and dust. Using her thumb, she wiped at the smooth surface to reveal a blue stone. It was a stone similar to the rose colored stone her mother gave her. This necklace had been her mother's. Hidden and locked away for safe keeping. Emma smiled as she gripped the necklace close. Almost as a reassurance. A reminder of why she was here. She inhaled and closed her eyes before speaking once more.

"I walked in and called out that I was home, and um, I noticed smoke was coming out of the kitchen. It had filtered through the rooms and left a hazy fog. The sunlight would hit it and reveal beams of visible light … ironically, I thought it looked heavenly. Anyway, I figured Ma had gotten distracted and left a pot on the fire. So I went into the kitchen, and found my mother … she had been killed … how I don't know, but there was not a mark on her body. I don't remember much after that. Everything kind of meshed together … forming a blob of confusing scenes and events. I vaguely recall running into Danny's room only to find him in the same state as my mother, only he had wound marks. If I had been home, I would've certainly found the same fate as them. Sometimes I wished I had. At least I wouldn't have had to go through the things I did … and still am faced with. I was just eleven at the time, and my brother was just ten. After they died, I was lost … I didn't know what to do. I just knew I had to get out of here. I had to leave the black realm at all costs … no matter what. I would leave. One afternoon I was luckily enough to catch a Gray Brigade making their rounds in the city. For some reason, they took me without question. I was twelve. And you know the rest of the story." Emma finished as she rolled a piece of mud between her forefingers and thumb, which she had collected while talking, and tossed it in frustration.

Ryker bit his inside lip as his face and shoulders fell. "I'm so sorry, Em," he said, his voice soft.

"Ah," she brushed it off with a shrug of her shoulders. "That is life in The Realms of Thrice, is it not? You know it's funny. Each realm has its own definition of who you should be, and what makes you who you are, but what they don't understand is … you're shaped … created. People aren't born good or bad. The Gray Realm has it right, and that's something I don't think the others quite understand. What we are born into doesn't and shouldn't define who we are as human beings. What defines us are our experiences and how we handle them. Anyway, we should get moving," she said as she got up and retrieved her own set of clothing. They both slipped the new attire on over their old, so no one would have been any the wiser of their identities. "We shouldn't linger here much longer. There's a task that needs to be seen through," said Emma as she began rummaging through various cobweb and dust filled containers, trying to salvage whatever was left. She managed to find a few coins, enough for a loaf of dark bread, an astrolabe that her mother had built from scrap wood and brass fittings, a few threadbare blankets and shirts, a couple swatches of leather, and an old wooden doll that had a broken arm and leg. The rest was junk.

After an hour, Emma and Ryker finally emerged from the decaying house. They were certainly dressed the part. Raggedy trousers, tied at the waist with a frayed and dry rotted rope, tattered shirts, and moth-eaten wool capes. They even had scrapes, bruises, and smudges of dirt on their faces thanks to the inherited dangers of the house, but those were purely coincidental. Definitely made them look more authentic.

The dirt path that led from the house to the city was uneven and full of stones and clumped mud. Ryker encountered a few of these hindrances, and almost toppled over, but Emma did not fare much better. Cursing aloud when one rolled under her feet, causing her to stumble. It would almost be laughable if the situation wasn't so dire.

Eventually, the path leveled out and grew in width as the city of Gravens appeared in the horizon; the forest now relenting it's shroud. The ominous entity, the cause of all their troubles and fears, was now clearly visible within the sky.

"This is where you lost her, isn't it? The girl you always spoke of?" he asked as he kicked a rock and watched it roll several feet in front of them.

Emma's body went rigid at the question, and her step faltered the slightest. "Yes," she said. "I lost her in this foul, disgusting place as well. Because that's what it does. It takes everything away from you and leaves you with nothing."

Ryker, sensing the need to comfort his friend, resulted to his usual humor to lighten the mood. He always managed to make her smile. So, he smiled softly before nudging her with his elbow. "Hey, you have me. That has to count for something, right?"

Emma couldn't help but return the smile as her body relaxed at the familiar banter. "Indeed. You're a good friend, Ryker. The best anyone could ask for."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know … never knew. The last time I ever saw her, she had been severally injured. Maimed by some feral dogs … right in front of me. Blood was everywhere …I—I tried to help her as best as I could, but … she was rushed back home, and I never heard anything from her again. I just assumed she died. Her wounds were too severe to survive."

"How long since you've been back here?"

Her eyes squinted in contemplation as her lips pursed. She thought for a moment, and then answered. "First time since I left, actually. When I was twelve."

The young man seemed surprised by this. "Damn, eleven years. I imagine lots changed."

"Not really, no. It all looks the same, people act the same. A place like this stays in the dark. Never improve or advance. I never even bothered to keep up with it during council meetings. I asked not to be informed of Dark matters. I wasn't assigned here, so why put myself through more than I had to," she stated thoughtfully as they continued walking the path. "I didn't even know the Queen had been imprisoned, let alone for eight years. She deserved everything she got, though. She was cruel beyond measure."

"Well, hopefully for our sake, these eight years have softened her."

"Not likely, I'd say she'd still prefer to cut your heart out than look at you."

"Right," he stated after a full gulp. That's when he noticed the guards in full armor stationed at the gate. "Are they expecting us?"

"Probably not, but let's go find out, shall we."

As they neared the gate, Emma noticed several locals eyeing them suspiciously. Their gazes were calculated, cold, and pierced down to the spine. It was unnerving. "Just keep your eyes forward and your step steady. Make eye contact with no one, and do not focus on the ground for too long, shows fear and weakness. We don't want to instigate anything."

"It's awful brazen for two villeins such as yourselves to approach the palace gates," the guard to the left spoke as Emma and Ryker stepped closer. He had within drawn his chipped sword and flashed it threateningly. "I should have your eyes dug out with a red-hot poker just for lookin'."

Ryker shifted on his feet, but Emma stood still, unmoving and seemingly without fear.

"Well, as appealing and … welcoming as that sounds, it's a high crime to threaten members of the council. Perhaps it is I who should have your eyes dug out and your mouth sewn shut for such loose lips."

Both guards scoffed and smiled wickedly at Emma's words. "We have us some characters here," the left guard said to the right. "Council members don't grace the city streets anymore. Too dangerous for 'em. The last thing this kingdom needs is a bunch of high class wine drinkers bein' murdered on the streets cause they think they own everythin'. Great way to start a war it is."

"Yes, well, while I can hardly disagree, the recent weather anomaly has made travel quite difficult if you understand. So, if you'd be so kind, we have official business with Lord Tyron, on the order of the High Council."

The guards continued to eye them with distrust until Emma pulled up her sleeves, revealing her solid metal bracelets that hummed with energy. And her palms? They were bare save the mess of scars left by her old receptors. The bracelets replace the crude "chains" that bound her to this world. Yet she would always be marked with the evidence of it.

"Very well," the left guard said quietly. "But don't try anythin' funny. I've got my eyes on you."

"Well, this should be interesting," Ryker stated as the guards opened the black gates and escorted them forth.

Emma smiled and leaned her body toward her friend. "My thoughts exactly. Interesting indeed," she stated as the black gates closed behind them with a resounding click. "Ready to meet the fallen Queen of Black?"

* * *

**Reviews, favorites, and follows are always appreciated! :)**


	7. Chapter VI - Light Meets Dark (Part 1)

**AN: Implied rape (discussed only briefly). **

**Just a quick message regarding updates: I have up to chapter 16 written, so updates will be posted as I have extra time (hopefully at least once a day). I'm guessing, by my outline and partially written chapters, I'm expecting this story to be about 20 to 25 chapters.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or added this story to their favorites or followed! :)**

**No beta so all mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer****: See Prologue. **

* * *

**Chapter VI - Light Meets Dark ****(Part 1)**

A towering throne made of weathered ebony stood proudly at the far end of the room. It was elevated by several steps on a landing that led to yet another dimly lit passageway. The room itself was bright, all in thanks to the floor to ceiling windows that framed a small portion of the courtyard. The dull black granite stone encasing the room was well-worn and smooth with patchy dead vines covering portions of the walls. Several floor chandeliers were lit and gave off a pleasant smell of cloves and other spiced herbs. It made the otherwise cool air heavy with aroma.

There were a few people of the court milling about, whispering and staring as Emma, Ryker, and the two guards moved into the room. Emma's feet rocked ever-so-slightly on the uneven slate as they approached a lean man sitting stiffly on the raven throne. He had long dark brown hair that was partially pulled back and secured with a tie. His face was unfriendly, and he had the slightest smirk. Boney hands gripped tightly at the throne arms, turning his already pale skin white at the pressure points.

The throne, however, captured Emma's attention. The intrinsic designs were frightening as they rose from the wood, casting rivers of shadows beneath them, showcasing thorned vines and depictions of corvidae over corpses. Mimicking the barren walls, dead vines encircled the base and top crowns of the throne. But perhaps the most threatening and chilling of the designs, was the single symbol etched right above the Lord's head. It was the three connecting rings of Thrice, but both the Gray and White had been viciously carved out, leaving rough and jagged splinters behind. Emma swallowed thickly as she regarded Lord Tyron.

"To whom do we owe this unexpected meeting?" The Lord asked as he looked between all four individuals. His eyes moved as his body sat inert.

"The Council has requested our presence here, Your Majesty," Emma said. "I'm sure you're aware of our current predicament."

"Perhaps," he spoke as his appraised her. Sizing her up, perhaps. Whatever it was, it sent a powerful chill down Emma spine. "But again, why are you here?"

"We believe you have someone in custody that might know how to stop it."

His eyes were penetrating. "And that might be?"

"The fallen Queen … your predecessor."

As soon as the words left Emma's mouth, a howling, mocking laughter sliced through the thick air. All the air gathered in her lungs, vanished, like a vacuum as her lungs felt as if they had collapsed. This was not going well. Mentally, she was praying for the other council members to arrive sooner rather than later. Ryker must have had the same idea as she sensed him shift beside her.

"You wish to consort with The Evil Queen?" Lord Tyron spoke, his yellow and crooked teeth bared in a wicked smile. "What makes you believe she is the cause of this? She's been imprisoned for many years. Years before this even formed. She couldn't have created that portal."

"But she might know how to stop it. This is powerful energy. Energy and force that only someone of great strength could construct … and who else would want to bring tragedy upon the three kingdoms?" she asked, fully knowing the answer. She knew of the grievances Cora had harbored against both the Gray and White, then again, it was not new sentiment among many within the kingdoms. It was common knowledge of the distrust and bitterness felt.

"You might be surprised of the enemies to all the realms. You have knowledge of what's taking place here, but why wasn't I informed of your arrival? How do I know you are being truthful? The Council rarely does anything out of order such as this."

"We are from the Gray, communication and transcendence were all disrupted, but how we arrived here is none of your concern."

"What is your name?"

"Emma Swan, Advisor to the Black,"

"Please step forward," he commanded. Emma stood and moved to stand in front of the Lord, several guards drew their weapons, many pointing right at her.

He motioned for her hands, which she held out, palm down, in compliance. His cold and gangly fingers circled her wrists, turning her hands palm up. Lord Tyron inhaled sharply as he saw not only the solid bands at her wrist, but also the scars on her palm. His red eyes shot to hers as he regarded her coldly.

"You were a resident of Black," he stated. It was not a question, but a fact. The scars told it all. "You escaped. How?"

Emma did not respond. Instead, she withdrew her hands and took several steps back, coming in line with Ryker and the other guards. Lord Tyron accepted her silence and rose from his throne. "You have my permission to speak with her. Gather what information you seek, then you should leave," he stated and motioned one of his royal guards forward where he whispered instructions into the guard's ear. The interaction was brief, and soon Emma was being led down into the bowels of the palace to the dungeon keep, and Ryker was off to await the arrival of the other council members.

Tyron and his trusted governor stood behind, unmoving as Emma was led to the dungeons. Tyron's eyes never left Emma's retreating form. They were hard and piercing in their gaze.

"Call our members forth. I do believe our situation just got more dire."

* * *

The palace, for the most part, was rich in gothic influences and elegant in its own manner. Design and material wise, it flowed effortlessly from the inner spheric sanctum, to the grand dining hall, up to the private and guest chambers, and into the throne room. The dark crimsons, violets, black, and browns all blended together with seamless precision as they created an ambiance of dark yet elegant imperial qualities. Various wall trophies of beast and man alike lined the long dimly lit corridors with gold encrusted human skulls atop the blackened candle floor stands. It was enough to make the hairs on the back of Emma's neck hackle. Red, black, and gold brocade lined the walls at tasteful intervals, and their feet clacked and echoed loudly against concrete floors. The Dungeon Keep, however, was the exact opposite. It was dark, musty, dingy, and unnerving. There were no wall sconces to speak of, and the only light was that of the torch the guard was carrying. Corridor after corridor was breached, and they finally came upon a large windowless room filled with block concrete walls and the occasional set of rough iron bars. The air was acrid, smelling of mildew and stagnant water puddle up in low indentions and corners. It was black as night, and Emma hated to know what other fool matter had festered in it. The air was cold enough to seep down to your bones and linger for days. It was the type of cold one generally didn't warm from. Dampness and moisture penetrated layers of clothing making one fidget in place.

The guard called forth the keeper of keys who hurriedly made his way to the sixth cell on the right. The sharp metallic ring of the jangled keys echoed through the large room. Just as the keeper was about to slip an unusual key into the keyhole, the guard roughly grabbed at his arm, stopping the movement to unlock the door and release the prisoner. With a murderous glare from the guard, the keeper of keys stepped back, leaving the cell locked.

"You have a visitor, _Queen_," he stated mockingly as he chuckled in his throat. It must have been surreal for a man of his low standing to stand before a fallen Queen, a woman who was at one time, royalty of the highest standard. To talk down to a being who was once the most powerful woman in the kingdom must have greatly increased his male ego. However, when the prisoner gave him naught acknowledgment, he bristled and reached over his hip to grab the hilt of his sword. "You will look at me when I speak, wretch, or else I'll play nasty. No one can hear you scream here," he taunted with a wicked grin plastered across his face, the butt end of his sword tapping on the metal bars as the other moved to the crotch of his pants. Still, there was no answer or response. He went to jerk the keys from the hold of keeper of keys, when Emma finally stepped in.

She didn't know what provoked her to make such a death wish. Perhaps it was her need, despite the horrors the woman inside had created, to show another being humility and respect. The old saying "slay them with benevolence" was not lost on her, and she wasn't about to witness such brutality, even when the recipient had cast her own forms of hatred, and surely had deserved such treatment. Emma wanted to believe it was the woman's frail and despondent form, weak and without arms to protect herself that made Emma intervene.

"Leave her be," she commanded and suddenly saw fire in the guard's eyes. She knew how to deal with people like him, arrogant with a temper to top it off. A man who was easy to fly into a fit of rage when questioned, especially by a woman. "You will leave her be. I have use for her, and using her as a poking prod is not of those. If you ruin my chance at information, I will cut off your prick myself. Understand?" Her fierce glare never left his eyes.

The guard stepped into her space; his face murderous. "You don't have the gale," he taunted hissed.

Emma, not the least bit phased, held her ground as she regarded him, or more specifically, his weapon. "Your blade," she said. "It's finely crafted. No doubt the work of a skilled blacksmith. Equally balanced, a bit dull. But a sword is only as capable as its owner. Your hold on it is weak—unsure. They always say a man is only a man by the strength in which he carries his arms. And you, my sir, who uses the size of your blade and the arrogance in your blood as illusions of power, are weak. Now step down before I bury my dagger in your throat."

His lips curled as his eyes narrowed and darkened; face turning red in sheer rage. She could see several veins protruding from his forehead and strained tendons jetting from his throat. His sword, still clutched tightly in his left hand, shook. "Just you wait, outsider," he spoke through gritted teeth. "When your back is turned, and you're least suspecting, I'll be there waiting for you. Only then will you know pain, when a knife is through your neck and slicing deep enough to fragment any image or memories you retain. Only then, will your body prove to be useful."

The woman who sat within the cell listened intently to every word, hiss, and strain within their voice. She couldn't identify her apparent visitor, a woman, no doubt, and a complete idiot at that. An idiot for not only seeking her out, but for taunting the guard, as well. Did these people learn nothing? Were they all incompetent fools? Fools that she was apparently going to be forced to hold dialogue with? She sighed heavily as the voices died down. She felt a pair of eyes settle on her back, obviously awaiting her response or recognition of their presence. However, despite how annoyed she was at the current situation, she couldn't help but wonder what unfortunate soul had come to her defense with the guard. The Gods above knew how she had suffered their vile mistreatment and abuse over the years. Anymore, she didn't even flinch when the metal bolt tumbled loudly within its case, signaling it's unlocking. But to have someone, a visitor, here to speak with her, but also in sense, protecting her, was baffling. She opened her eyes, which had remained closed, and spoke to the unknown woman, never once turning to address her properly.

"Angering the guards will get you nowhere," she said; her voice hoarse from disuse—much deeper than usual. She tried to clear throat before speaking again. "Especially here, where revenge and murder go hand in hand, and you just signed your death proclamation. Your precious life is ticking away as we speak."

"Well, as it is, no one has the guarantee of life. 'Specially when all could end at any given time? You have information I seek, and no one will prevent me from gaining it."

"You seem ignorantly confident of the notion that I will willingly provide you with such information? That is laughable at best because it seems you are not in a place for such demands. Rather, you shall take what I give you or nothing at all. I have nothing to gain otherwise, and you would best understand to kindly rethink your words, and issue them as not demands, but rather polite requests."

"Don't play with me. I, along with other members of the Council, know what you did, Cora! You've condemned all realms and their people to death. And I will NOT leave here until you tell me how to stop this portal you created out of hate and vengeance!"

At the mention of her mother's name, the prisoner turned on her bed and was met with a familiar face. A much older face. The face of someone who her mother had made sure she would never see again, at least she never believed so. Her childhood friend who was so often, even to this day, present in her dreams.

She stood slowly, never allowing her eyes to leave the individual feet in front of her.

She looked on disbelieving. Emma had been nothing more than a mere memory for thirteen years. Her appearance had changed, but there was still so much familiar about her. The once long and tangled mess of blonde hair was now neatly groom and pulled back into a ponytail. Her bright, gentle eyes that some time ago glowed ruby were now a fierce shade of emerald. She was lean and muscular. Healthy. The scar that traversed her lips and the single scar on her left eyebrow were still ever present.

But those eyes. Gods those eyes shot straight to her heart, melting and blasting away all that she had been so careful to construct. During her reign, appearing void, heartless, and cold definitely had its benefits. Desensitizing herself from the horrors of the kingdom was the only way to survive. So that's exactly what she had done. But standing here, under the intense stare of the one person who had always seemed to _see_ her, absolutely broke her.

She released a sharp breath as her eyes and nose began to tingle with unspent tears. Her legs shook and threatened to buckle under her weight, and she braced herself on her wood and straw bed. No, no this could not be.

She voiced one word. One broken and pathetic word before she regrettably turned away, fearful of showing her newly discovered emotions. Emotions that would undoubtedly be used against her. To break her once more.

"Emma."

* * *

_"Emma."_

That word. That one word crippled her and made her heart stop cold in her chest. Her eyes did not deceive her, but whatever doubts remained were obliterated at the utterance of her name. But Gods! There was no way that frail woman staring back at her with shimmering eyes was the one girl she had been without for nearly fourteen years.

How does one possibly describe the overwhelming sensation of discovering someone you thought dead was alive? It was impossible to believe. Yet here Regina stood, right in front of her. The shell of Regina perhaps, but Regina nonetheless, and Emma wanted nothing more than to pull the aching heart from the depths of her chest, and smash it against the nearest blood stained wall. It would be preferable to this. This pain and sadness that was darkening her soul. Bringing forth feelings of anger and hurt to the forefront of her mind once again.

The fingers of her right hand grasped tightly around the vertical bar of the iron door, grounding herself to reality. Because this was not real. It was impossible.

"No, it can't be …" Emma whispered in shock as she heard footsteps approaching the room. "Where's the Queen?!" she yelled, slightly panicked.

"Right in front of ya, lass," a passing guard spoke in confusion.

"Where's Cora?!"

"Long since dead she is. That woman there was the Queen. The one in which you seek."

"Oh, do not be so surprised, dear," a chilling voice spoke. The previous emotions Emma sensed were gone, replaced yet again with that of the Queen. "You knew my mother … you knew what horrors she was capable of."

Emma felt her body change as her hands, wrist, and arms drew. The metal bands at her wrists, while indiscernible to the naked eye, tightened painfully against her skin and the muscle beneath.

Regina's eyes, which had been on hers the entire time, darted to her arms. No doubt she could see the muscles and tendons rippling beneath her pliant flesh. She could sure feel it.

The few occupants in the room noticed the change in atmosphere as well as they shifted nervously and wiped fresh sweat from their brow. Regina's eyebrows contorted in alarm, her eyes wide.

She needed to leave before she worsened things. Leave before she inadvertently hurt someone or herself. Emma could feel the energy building within her body. It was times like this where she craved to understand the inner workings of it. Why she seemed so alone in her suffering. She knew of no one else whose energy source thrummed through their body with such uncontrollable force. It moved through her blood vessels like water and sand, grinding and tearing away at her insides like a pickaxe carving into fresh dirt. The veins in her temples throbbed to the erratic beat of her heart. She jerked away from her hold on the bars and stumbled off in desperate search for an unoccupied room.

She clawed at her splitting head as her right hand settled against the black stone wall. The shear pressure being emitted from her hand sent several hair-line fractures scattering from her fingertips. A warm sensation spread from her nose to her mouth, and it tasted metallic. She looked down to her feet, and saw droplets of blood decorating the discolored floor. Gods, it would surely kill her this time.

A hand quickly reached for hers, jolting her from her state. "Whoa there. Easy does it," Ryker whispered as he clutched at her wrists, slowly calming them down.

Emma felt her body respond in kind as the energy coursing through her body dissipated until all that was left was shaky limbs and disorientation.

Her body slumped against Ryker's in exhaustion, and he quickly guided her to a nearby chair.

Her head lolled side-to-side as a hand roughly wiped at the blood on her face. Finally her eyes cooperated, and she settled them on familiar hazel."You all right?" Ryker asked out of breath. She nodded. "Damn, Em," he said as he rested his hands on his knees. "It's been awhile since you've lost it like that. Care to tell me what happened?"

She mumbled a few expletives in pain before she straightened herself in the chair and alternated between rubbing her head, arms, and wrists. "Sure," was muttered sarcastically. "As soon as I understand it myself." She took a deep breath, calming her raging heartbeat before slumping over tiredly. An irritated huff escaped her lungs as her head shook in frustration. "I thought I had it figured out … how to control and contain it. Guess I was wrong."

"What happened to make you so angry?"

"It wasn't anger. Not this time. It was … just _everything_. Like I felt everything at once. I was overwhelmed, and I let it get the better of me."

He noticed the dried tracks of tears on her cheeks, and how her eyes shimmered in the light. "What happened, Em?"

Her bottom lip and chin trembled as she jerked her face away. "It's not her, Ryker. It was not Cora in that cell. It's Regina."

"R–Regina? Your friend from here? How?"

"I know naught. Not yet anyway. I need to speak with Kael … or someone." She rose from the chair and began to pace the small room. "She's alive. Regina is alive. Gods … I … thought she was dead. It's been so long, and she has been alive all this time. Rotting away in that jail cell while suffering abuse and neglect from the guards." She paused as she rubbed a particularly sore knot in her left arm before burying her face in her hands. "I guess that's why it's so hard," she mumbled into them. "Regina's alive and I found her once again. I've found one of the few people I've ever cared about. It's like … as soon as my eyes found hers, a part of me instantly filled. That void here," she spoke as she flattened her palm against her chest and clutched, "was filled once again with an all too familiar, comforting presence. But I keep telling myself, that's not her! That woman in that cell, who is accused of such wrongful acts, is not the young girl I grew to love. She doesn't even look the same. My friend is truly gone."

"Maybe not … maybe she's not completely lost yet. Look, you have an advantage here. We need her help and the two of you have a past … a good past, and since you didn't end on bad terms, maybe, just maybe she will be willing to help … to help you. From what I understand, the Queen never did for others, only for herself. Could it be that she's hurting just as much as you? Look who her mother was for Gods' sakes. There's something more at work here, and I believe you understand it completely, don't you?"

"Gods, I don't know. I don't know anything anymore," she sobbed.

"Breathe, Em. Just breathe—here sit back down." He motioned to the old rickety chair in the corner. He picked it up through a slot in the back and sat it down in front of her. "Don't let them see you cry," he whispered.

"What? Shows weakness?" she asked sarcastically.

"You know that's not it. You're upset. That's normal … understandable, even. Talk to her. Find out what she can offer us. What she wants in return."

"She won't help."

"I don't know about you, but I too saw that look in her eyes when you left. Something inside her clicked, just like with you. Don't discredit her too soon. Now, do I trust her? Not for a second. But maybe you can get something done."

"I don't know, Ryker. We're both so different now. It couldn't be more plain."

"All the more reason to try, right? Just talk to her, Emma," he stated as he looked at her dejected form. "This just keeps getting better and better, dunnit?

Emma tried smiling, but her eyes remained downcast. "Hopefully we'll catch a break here soon," she stated.

Soon, they both headed back to Regina's cell where Emma asked to speak with her alone, Ryker being the only other person present by Emma's wish.

She had one of the friendlier guards fetch her a chair which she placed a couple paces from the cell door. She sat down and wringed her hands together as she gazed at Regina's silhouette.

"Why are you imprisoned?" Emma asked as she cut through the silence. "What's your crime?"

"Surely they spoke to you of my misdeeds?" Regina countered; her voice now deep and commanding.

"I want to hear it from you."

She inhaled slowly before releasing it quickly. "I committed acts of murder and torture against my own people … by my own hands and through the hands of others. Without my orders, no misdeeds would have been made. I was betrayed by my court, and sentenced here. Thanks to your _precious_ Council, I was unfortunately spared death."

"Do you know how to stop it?"

"No," Regina conceded. "My mother told me and used me for many things … but this is one she did not disclose. It is true I created the portal, but I did not know its purpose."

Emma, however foolish it might have been, believed her, but she didn't want Regina to know that, yet. "You honestly expect me to believe that?"

"No," she stated matter-of-factly as if there were no other feasible answers.

"Why would you blindly follow your mother? After all she did to you? After all she deprived you of?"

Regina regarded her carefully as silence moved in around them once more, if only briefly. "I believe it was you who once told me family was all one had … and with that came a loyalty unlike any other. She was my mother, and she was all I had … regardless of how she treated me, I did love her."

"How long have you been imprisoned? When did you take the throne?"

She paused to tally up the years. By now, minutes, hours, and days all meshed together. She had almost forgotten how long she had been there. "Eight years. I took the throne the day my mother died. I was eighteen. I ruled for two years until I was overthrown on my twentieth name day. I have been here since."

"Why now then? Why has it formed now, after so many years?"

"It was planned that way, Miss Swan. It was meant to be unpredictable. Take us by surprise."

"Can you stop it?"

"No, it was designed to be self-sustaining ... _but_, perhaps there might be a way ... but alas, I'm in here. I guess you and your worlds are left up to your own devices. The Realms of Thrice got what they wanted—me. I shall die here."

Emma remained quiet as she tapped her foot and popped her knuckles; pursing her lips in thought. "Freedom," she said. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Regina smiled sadly, but it went unnoticed. "Freedom is a kind concept, if only it were that easy."

"Cut the cryptic bullshit!" Emma hissed as she rose dangerously from her chair. Her hands automatically went to her hair as her fingers gripped it tightly before moving down to her face, creating red and white marks where she rubbed in agitation. "If I could grant your release," she began more calmly "… your freedom … would you be willing to help?"

"You will not persuade them to release me, dear," she stated despondently. It made Emma immediately regret her outburst. "My crimes have been too severe, even for the likes of the dark realm. But what life is left for me out there if I were, in fact, released? I would be hunted down and slaughtered on sight. It would be a slow and painful death no doubt."

"The people loved your mother despite her cruelty, surely that loyalty would fall onto you … spare you death?"

She chuckled lowly. It was gritty and dirty, enough for a chill to have swept across Emma's body. She grinned with teeth bared. "My mother was _not_ loved. She was feared. As she should have been. Every ruler that takes the throne of The Black Realm rules by one decree … fear. It is what keeps everyone in line. There was no love for my mother … far from it," she stated darkly.

"So you will not help us then?" Emma asked, fully knowing the answer.

"You want my advice, Miss Swan?" she asked with a decided coldness to her voice. "Go back to your Realm, to your _doting_ little family, and wait for the end to come. Because the end is already here. It is too late."

Emma's eyes never left the woman in front of her as she stood and approached the iron bars that separated them. She grasped them with both hands before she pulled her front to meet cool metal, aligning her body with the door. Her face sank in defeat from a loss of something different than she ever expected. It was not the rejection of aid, but rather the rejection of there ever being something more; the knowledge that Regina stood just feet from her, yet a world apart. This was what they were now. Reduced to the burden of knowing the other existed, but never again having the opportunity to exist together; to reforge what they had lost. It was like receiving the best of hope, only to have crushed seconds before victory. Like the excitement of catching fresh game for your family's supper, knowing it was one less night of hunger, and the desire to the see the elation on your mother's face, only to discover her dead.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, Regina," she began, mentally berated herself as her voice already began to flounder. "I knew what your mother was like, and I can see now just how different you are. You've changed so much, and I can't even begin to fathom why or what made you change so. I would've done anything and everything to have prevented that. To have prevented you from having to experience all that you did. But I was unable to. Just know I would have moved heavens and earth to have saved you from that," she finished as she released her grip on the bars, and retreated back a few steps, eventually breaking eye contact. "I will do whatever it takes to stop what's happening, with or without your help. But rest assure, you would not be the only one to die alone. Misery always has company," she said quietly, and as a parting farewell. She turned to Ryker and signaled for their departure. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Regina said as she leapt from her bed. It creaked under the undue stress. She rushed to the bars and for the first time, stepped completely out of the shadows.

Emma motioned for Ryker to wait outside the door, and she walked back to the cell.

"Why did you come to my aid, at the beginning? Especially when you thought I was my mother? she asked.

Emma was surprised with the question. Expecting it to be anything but that. She regarded her kindly yet with reserve. "I'm not a monster, Regina. You forget that I too lived in this wretched realm. I know all too well what people are capable of, and I was not just going to stand idly by while he attempted his sick perversions upon a defenseless woman. No one, _no one_ deserves that."

"Not even my mother?" she asked.

Again Emma was stunned into silence. How did one answer such a question? The part of Emma that saw red at the mention of Cora's name thought yes. Such a cold-blooded person deserved whatever punishment was sent his or her way. Payment for their acts—atonement. However, the compassionate side of her, which thankfully was more dominate, believed in the humane treatment of everyone, regardless of their past or actions. But Emma knew of Cora's deeds, and they affected her personally on so many different levels. So, she gave Regina no answer.

"Then why am I different?" she asked. "I am guilty of the crimes brought against me. I performed them just as my mother taught me … as my mother would have. With deadly precision. So, why am I different?"

"I'm not saying you are. I don't know you, but I knew who you used to be, and I truly believe that young girl, is still in there somewhere."

There, at that moment, a silent agreement was made.

* * *

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	8. Chapter VI - Light Meets Dark (Part 2)

**AN: Mentions of torture, abuse, and minor depictions of violence.**

* * *

**Chapter VI - Light Meets Dark (Part 2)**

Once Emma left Regina, she and Ryker met with the Senior Council Members who had traveled to the dark realm. To her utmost dissatisfaction, Alok was in attendance as well as Kael, Lord Tyron, of course, Raya from the White, and Catriona and Gareth from the Gray.

"Regina has agreed to help, all she asks is to be freed," Emma stated with satisfaction as she leaned against the smooth table top, palms down. She looked to the other council members as she addressed them.

Alok laughed deep in his throat with contempt. "Well, that's not asking for much is it?" he asked sarcastically, but Lord Tyron dismissed him.

"Fine, she'll be released. But she is to remain under your watch, Adviser. Under no uncertain terms is she to leave your sight. She might have agreed to aid you, but she still cannot be trusted … you best remember that."

They went back into the prison room, and a few of the council members followed. Emma looked at Regina as her eyes traveled south to her marked hands.

"I want those off her." Emma said firmly. For some reason, it felt odd to see her former friend reduced to such a state. She had been marked before, but these markers were different. The skin around and buried beneath the metal was red and angry. Pockets of yellow and white skin were enough of an indication to know they had been improperly fitted and were infected. The Gods only knew how long they had been like that. Red streaks were running parallel to her arm, and Emma knew that as a sign of blood poisoning; an incorrect dose of the marking material could do such a thing, as well. All these thoughts sickened Emma. She wasn't just looking at an evil Queen who had done unmentionable acts, that's who everyone else saw, but she was also looking at her best friend, at least until their paths broke.

"What? Her bindings?" Alok asked. Disbelief colored his tone.

"No, her receptors." Emma clarified in annoyance.

Whispers were heard behind her back, and Regina watched her carefully. "We don't have the authority to remove those," Gareth declared in dismay.

"Removal of one's receptors is a crime punishable by death, Miss Swan. They're not only a necessity for living, but also for marking one's status within the Realms." Alok stated with superiority. An arrogant smile twisted his face. Emma wanted to throttle him and hold her grip until he was within an inch of his life.

"I know all this," she stated evenly, trying not to upset herself further. She took a deep breath before she continued. "I'm not asking for her receptors to be removed completely. But I want those things off her hands and replaced with those like mine. I know entirely too well the burden those damned things bring … and I want them off her," she spoke coldly. "If it makes you all feel any better, she will forever be marked with the scar of The Black Realm. Make no mistake; people will know where she came from and the crimes she committed."

She spoke as she looked down at her own scars. Painful reminders of her past.

"Well, Regina," Lord Tyron said mockingly. "It seems as if you actually do have someone within these realms that cares about your well-being. I would be honored. Many would rather see you hanged, drawn, and quartered. But this woman here actually wants you to be comfortable." He smirked as his eyes narrowed. "Call the Marker forth," he commanded his Governor. "Tell him he has a removal."

"I'll do it," Emma said as she stepped up and went to stand in front of Regina and the council members.

"You? You aren't qualified—" Alok began.

"I'm an adviser to this realm now. I'm able to transcend freely within the other realms. So, I think I clear any security concerns," Emma said. The men around the round mumbled to themselves before coming to an agreement.

"Be that as it may, but her eyes remain as they are. You will not change those." The Lord stated with fire in his eyes.

Emma nodded in understanding. "Understood."

She approached the now older brunette and looked at her form. The years had not been kind to her old friend. Worry lines decorated her forehead and her ruby eyes were dull and lifeless. Her skin was pale and ashy; only covered by filthy rags. Even in such conditions, Regina still held herself high; her posture sharp and rigid. One word came to mind even in such conditions: regal. Years of formality and growing up as the Queen's daughter had trained her to look and behave a certain way. Sometimes, old habits were not forgotten, and proper form had been one of those.

The Keeper opened the iron door, and two guards seized Regina, neither being gentle in their touch. She was pretty much manhandled to the lower sanctum where she was detained against the pair of grip bars. Emma was sickened with the way the older woman was treated and regarded; restrained by the grip bars on either side of her. The once powerful ruler was reduced to such a state, and now, put on display for all to see. Humiliation at its finest.

Before Emma could react, the guards had stripped the fallen Queen of her ragged robe, exposing her naked and battered form to all. It wasn't until then that Emma noticed just how beaten and worn down the older woman was. Her entire body was covered in bruises, lacerations, and thick scars. Even at such a stance, Regina still held her head high, her resolve never breaking. But Emma's sure was. Pressure was building within her head, and red colored her world.

She wanted to strangle them, all of them, with her bare hands. Her fingers flexed into fists as she attempted to control them from grasping hold of the small dagger she kept concealed. A couple quick moves and both guards would be flopping like fish out of water. Struggling to breathe as they slowly faded away.

"Stop this," Emma demanded as she confronted Lord Tyron. "I will not stand to have her treated this way," she spoke, but her words went unheard as the brutal assault continued right in front of her.

The Lord merely leered at her. "She is a monster, Adviser. One not worthy of your sympathy."

"Stop it, or I will. She's a human being for fuck's sake!"

He turned on her with fire in his eyes. "You are not in your Realm, _Adviser_," he spat. "I would be careful of the declarations you make," he stated. He motioned for the guards to step away, and then he, along with the guards, exited the room.

Emma approached her straight away, tearing at her own cloak to make a makeshift robe. She hoped to preserve some of Regina's modesty; whatever she had left of it now, which Emma figured wasn't much.

The woman who stood in front of her was not the same woman she had grown to love. Instead, a woman stood before her, beaten and damaged. Perhaps beyond repair. The thick scars that ran along her back and abdomen told countless stories of torture and abuse. Not to mention the various cuts, scrapes, and bruises. But it was the faint lines that ran from beneath her cheek, down her jaw, throat, and collar bone, which haunted Emma the most. They were ghosts of imagines that still invaded her memories.

Regina's red eyes, which were once radiant orbs that glowed bright despite the oppression she faced, were empty; portraying the broken soul within. A soul that had finally been taken by the darkness so many didn't even have the will to fight. They were as empty as a canteen on the forth night of parched thirst.

The heavy wool cloak fanned out across the span of Emma's arms as she draped the warm material over Regina's body. She could feel sets of eyes on her, but she didn't give a damn. One by one, Regina's hands were removed and slipped into the arms of the cloak, and it was tied at her waist.

"Can someone please draw her a bath and fetch her some clean clothes?" Emma asked as she glanced over her shoulder at her comrades. One immediately left presumably to give orders to the hand maidens.

Emma extended a hand and allowed her fingertips to whisper across bruised and chapped flesh, raising only to tuck a few errant strands of dark hair behind the woman's ear. She noticed Regina flinched at the soft contact, but older woman did nothing to separate herself or make distance between them.

The few remaining council members left the room as she and Regina became the only occupants. Metal clanged against metal as two bracelets were readied for fit.

* * *

Regina watched as Emma tinkered with the bracelets that would soon decorate her wrist. She watched with an avid eye, but her thoughts remained elsewhere, focusing on the gentle touches, motions, and care that the young woman exhibited. She couldn't even remember the last time someone showed her so much care. It had to have been Dane, her keeper, all those years ago as he bid her goodnight and placed a kiss on her hand. That had been thirteen years ago. Gods, how time crawled. It seemed like centuries ago.

But that touch. That caress over her imperfections brought back so many painful memories and emotions. She was marred … defected … everything that a woman of royalty was not. At the beginning, she knew how each scar had originated. Now, multiple scars layered over the other. Like the layered organic material that built up season after season on the forest ground. Most, but not all, adorned her upper, middle, and lower back. They were reminders of her crimes. Punishment. Humiliation.

The metallic clang of the bracelets sent her back many years to a memory she longed to forget. It had been the beginning of her new life.

_"Death to the Queen!" Some man shouted from the crowd. The group of onlookers cheered. Some even clapped or pounded on hard objects. She swore she even felt drops of liquid gracing her legs. They were spitting on her. They were out for blood, more specifically, her blood._

_It had been two weeks since Regina was ripped from her throne. Torn from all that she knew. A bludgeoning, knee collapsing, keel over, face-first, fall from grace. _

_What would her mother think of her now? Not that she could have really thought any worst of her disgraceful daughter. She had already been the greatest disappointment. A burden. A parasite that, as her mother put it, simply would not wither away and die. Like a worthless mutt. Using up resources with nothing to offer. The only thing that honest to goodness redeemed Regina was her pedigree. Her mother. Her Queen. Cora, infamous Queen of the Black._

_So here she stood, under the intense sun with intense stares to match. The air was thick in the summer heat, and the humid water from the bay enveloped them in more suffocation. She was harnessed and chained to the wall. The black stone, heated from the sun, burnt her back and singed the fine hairs there. This was part of the sentencing. On display for all to see and witness her warranted punishment. She knew it was fitting. An eye for an eye. She killed, humiliated, maimed, imprisoned, and tortured. It was only fair for her to pay the price._

_"She should burn for her crimes!" Another man called out and received much of the same response._

_"Let's have her hanged, drawn, and quartered! More fitting for a monster!" A woman shouted. _

_"I wonder if royalty bleeds the same?" _

_"I think we should open her belly first. See if her insides are as black and cold as her outside!_

_"People, please! Lessen your anger," a young man addressed the restless crowd as he ascended the steps of the platform. He was the Governor, the issuer of justice. "The fallen Queen will be justly punished, have no fear. She will appear in front of the Council of Thrice in two moons time for sentencing, however, that does not mean she will not be punished under our laws. The reigning members of the court have agreed upon a public lashing morrow morning as the dew lifts from the grounds. The law is written as one lash for every crime. However, do to the nature and scale of which the fallen Queen has committed against the people of the Black, she will receive fifteen lashes."_

_"Fifteen?!" someone from the crowd shouted in outrage "Only fifteen for what she's done?!"_

_The young Governor huffed mockingly. "Fifteen lashes with a scourge, my fellow Darkonians. And don't fret, she will receive her fair share. Fifteen lashes every thrice a quarter. That equals to one hundred and eighty lashes by the end of the year. I'd say that's reasonable given the sentencing she's bound to be given," he stated as the crowd cheered in agreement. _

_Regina stood stoic as he continued to read off her list of crimes. The punishment, coupled with the agitated crowd only made her break further. She would not give in. Her limbs quaked in fear as her heart thrashed against her chest cavity. Gods, death would not come easily. What had she done to deserve a life such as this? But she knew that was just how the odds played. Some people were simply born, destined to suffer, and not for the first time in her young life she understood and accepted her fate. _

A warm present at her cheek startled her from her memory. She jerked her face to the side, her whole body moving with it. A labored breath was released.

"I'll see if I can't find something to help your wounds. You don't need any more of them infected than already are," Emma stated softly.

"You would be most wise to listen to your friends," Regina whispered as she felt those same gentle fingertips grace her mangled wrists and palms. She felt the pressure on her wound as Emma relieved it of its hold on the bar. Her fingers and palm stretched painfully on their own accord, and Emma began the agonizing process of removing the marker.

"Oh? And why's that?" Emma asked in return as she loosened the first metal plate on the back of her hand. As soon as the plate was released of its hold to the metal insert, the damage was immediately detected. The wound had festered to almost unbelievable lengths and even more so once Emma completely removed the plate from her skin.

Regina inhaled sharply as bits of skin came off with the plate. Her bottom lip trembled as she was trying to fight the pain.

"I know it's painful. No one obviously had any care or concerns about how they marked you. I can try to diminish the pain level, but it'll hurt nonetheless."

"Just continue, Miss Swan." Emma nodded and resumed her task.

"They do not trust me," she began. Answering the question Emma had asked earlier. "And neither should you."

Emma just regarded her with a sad smile and continued her work. "Maybe not, but what else do we have to lose? At any given time, our worlds will cease to exist, and all those who inhabit them, innocent and not, will die. So, forgive me, Your Majesty, if my faith in you is misplaced, but quite frankly, there is no other option."

Emma must have noticed her began to pale as her arms and legs started to shake. She grabbed her shoulder and gripped her hand in support. She eyed her carefully for any signs of impending collapse.

"You're shaking." Emma said as she tried to meet the fallen Queen's red eyes. She never did, but the Queen huffed in response.

"Hmm, being locked away for eight years without any form of exertion will do that to one's body. I am simply weak, Miss Swan, so if we could please hurry this along," Regina said tiredly.

"Here, this might help," she stated as she raised her palms toward Regina's head. The older woman jerked her head away in response; not wanting the contact. Emma lowered her arms in defeat before she sighed and stepped back half a step. "I'm here to help you, Regina. I'm trying."

"Oh please, you are here to save your people. Not some fallen evil Queen who was imprisoned for her heinous crimes."

"You're right. I am here to save people, but I'm also here to help you now. And I will if you allow me?" Emma asked her eyes gentle yet expectant.

Regina didn't respond right away; instead she closed her eyes and tried to ease her breathing. Her limbs continued to shake, and all she wanted to do was lie down in a soft bed and rest.

Emma's breath caught in her throat as soon as crimson eyes found hers. She saw a great deal expressed within them, but she didn't recognize the eyes much at all. They were cold and harsh, yet there was something buried deep within them. Something vaguely familiar. Agony, fear, and hopelessness, yet they shimmered with a certain softness. Whatever myriad of emotions were turning about in Regina's head, Emma was overwhelmed with it.

Regina nodded her approval with a curt nod and Emma quickly shook herself out of her reverie. She raised her hands to Regina's temples but never made contact. Instead, her palms and fingers hovered mere centimeters from her skin.

"This may feel strange," Emma warned as her bracelets began to glow and pulsate.

Regina rapidly felt her body fill with immense energy as her body regained its verve. Her head lolled back, and she released a shuddered breath. Emma had been correct. It had felt odd. The sensation was nowhere near uncomfortable, but it made all her nerve endings tingle with nervous energy. It was a feeling that rejuvenated her whole being, but just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped, and Regina wanted to cry in frustration. It was unnerving because she could feel every ounce of energy, might, and power that Emma held within her. It was as if Emma was transferring parts of her to Regina, sharing her strength with someone who needed it.

"Thank you," Regina stated, respiring unevenly. Her breath was no than a whisper. She lifted her head and looked straight into malachite depths. Everything stilled as she concentrated on the soothing movement of a thumb, emblazing life back into her smothered form as those eyes pierced into her, making her quivering heart clench in agony. If only it—if only _she_ could be enough to save her. But Regina was far from saving.

The contact lasted for mere seconds, but it seemed to transcend all those stolen years. Making Regina feel as if she was but a young girl again. Young and naïve in understanding her world and the worlds in which were parallel to it. They both were children again, ignorant to their fates. Living life the way most all children do—carefree, hopeful, and full of silly dreams.

Liquid warmth spread across her darkened and chapped cheeks as dexterous thumbs worked at drying them.

"You're quite welcome," the young woman said quietly as contact was lifted seconds after. She turned her back to Regina after clearing her throat to retrieve the two metal bracelets from the workbench.

Regina knew the moment was gone.

"You have grown powerful," Regina stated in a hushed voice. She was still shaken from the overwhelming experience.

"It's a burden," the young woman replied as she fitted Regina's wrist with the metal bands. "A curse if I've ever seen one. I'd do anything to be rid of it."

"Why rid yourself of something that many desire to have? It is a powerful gift you have."

"They could have it. It's brought me good fortune, but I've suffered immensely with it.

Regina could sense the truth in the statement. But the question remained if Emma's suffering was indeed caused by such a gift or if it was the effect of life itself. Either way, it was something Regina wished to understand. Not wanting to press the matter, Regina looked up from her hands, and found green eyes staring at her. Just as quickly as they made contact, Emma diverted her eyes, and pink colored her cheeks as if she was embarrassed at being caught. Like a roster being caught in the hen's coop.

"You still see me as that young girl who ran to your side and talked on hour's end about frivolous nonsense," Regina began. Her voice was soft and gentle, wistful. Not harboring the bitterness and coldness that filled her heart. "The same girl who longed to escape … who was weak. But I caution you such thoughts are foolish and misplaced. I am a far cry from her innocence. She and I are no longer the same person."

Emma considered her kindly before she spoke. "Don't I know it. But, I think she's still there. Albeit, a very small part, maybe. But she's there nonetheless. I think you're just afraid. Fearful of allowing yourself to open up like that again—to feel. I won't lie; it takes time … a long time. Wounds heal, but scars are often left in their wake and are reminders of the past. But the wounds do heal," she said knowingly.

"I do not trust mine ever will, dear."

"Perhaps they're not meant to. They're evidence of your struggles … your hardships, your pain. Evidence that you didn't walk away unscathed … that you're human. They're your life, written across your flesh for all to see … for all to see just how strong and determined you are. How brave you are, despite your weakest moments, to come out alive and fighting. I believe they're beautiful."

"If you say so," the older woman dismissed.

The marking process was almost complete. Emma had mixed a balm for the wounds covering Regina's hands, and was applying the waterproof concoction when she decided to ask the one question she had wanted to ask the moment she saw Regina behind those bars. "What happened to you, Regina?"

It was the one question Regina dreaded the most. It was the most painful and complicated of anything she could ask. She stiffened, her body becoming rigid and her eyes harsh. The walls protecting her inner self had just been reestablished. "Please continue, Miss Swan." She stated without intonation. "I have much I need to see to, and very little time to do so."

* * *

When they finished the process, Emma escorted Regina up to her chambers for a change of clothes and a nice wash. She opened the door to the small servant room, and Regina immediately flinched. The handmaiden had removed the boards from the small window, and sunlight was streaming into the darkened room.

"After your bath and change of clothes, would you care to join me for a walk outside? It's quite cold, but I'm sure anything would be an improvement over a confined space for eight years."

"Yes," the older woman stated as she fumbled between her healing hands and the new bracelets. "I—Yes, that would be …"

"I understand, Regina, and you are more than welcome to decline if that's what you so wish. Don't feel obligated—"

"No," Regina interjected quickly. "I would appreciate your company, Miss Swan."

"Very well, just call one of the maidens when you're ready. They can fetch me, and we'll go from there."

* * *

A maid led Regina forth into a cramped servant room with a wooden basin filled half full with warm, clean water. Her skin buzzed with delight at first sight of the clear liquid. For five long years, all she had to cleanse herself was a barely damp, dirty rag. Even then, it was sporadically given, at best. Sometimes stretching on weeks. Her past lavish lifestyle had been long since tossed in a pit and pissed upon, so seeing the clear and warm water was more than a welcomed sight.

During her musings, the servant left, closing the door behind her. Regina approached the basin slowly, her wrapped feet slapping against the cool stone. Her hip leaned against the wooden side as her fingers dipped into the water, making it ripple. She swirled her hand and fingers around gracefully. Like a fish dancing happily within its home. A glass bowl containing lye soap sat on a nearby table.

She lifted her hip to rest it on the edge of the wash bin, content to relish the soothing motions of her hand caressing the water. It tamed her frayed nerves, and allowed a decade of tension to seep out of her muscles. It also gave her the opportunity to transition to the forgotten sensations of a forfeited world. Inhaling deeply, the sweet scent of water, steam, fragrant herbs, damp wood from the basin, and soap filled her barren lungs with renewed vigor. It was remarkable how such mundane practices and items could be taken for granted; forgotten how fortunate it was to utilize such everyday necessities, direly missed when no longer given the right to use them.

She jerked, her hands giving way, causing the dish and lye soap to crash to the ground. The figure staring right at her was unrecognizable. She was incredibly thin, emaciated. Her eyes, once lively and thoughtfully, were now vacant and sunken in. Her cheekbones were more pronounced than ever, and her jaws were hollow. Her beautiful raven hair was dull, tangled, and brittle. And the scars. The scars that would forever remain with her taunted her. Taunted her with the simple fact she matched on the outside with who she was on the inside. A monster. Everyone knew her all along. They were right in their assumptions.

Unsteady fingers traced the collections of scars gathered at her face and neck. Two fingers outlined the thin scar at her temple, right at the corner of her eye. Hesitating, she slipped the thick wool fabric from her shoulders and inhaled sharply. Tears gathered within her lifeless eyes as she looked at her naked flesh for the first time in eight years. Her lips trembled as she wrenched her head to the side, unable to look at herself any longer. She didn't even want to see her back. The sensations and taut skin were enough to alert her of the damage done. Fiercely, she wiped at the tears that had fallen and steadied herself before she stepped into the lukewarm water.

She washed away the dirt and grime from her skin; at times viciously scrubbing the sins of others from her flesh. The rag slide over bruised and damaged tissue, and resulted in the flinching of muscles beneath. Many of the injuries were fresh, but some, despite being healed, were still sore, especially the ones that penetrated deep. Those are the ones that seemed to cut down to her very soul, opening her up and exposing her like nothing else.

Watchful eyes assimilated the surrounding room as a tinge of fury welled up inside her. This had been her palace. Her home. Not only had she been imprisoned and tortured within her own walls, but she was now reduced to the servant chambers. It was degrading, and it was slighting. Not but a few floors up had been her private chambers. The only place she truly had to herself, even as a child. Many a night had been spent in those chambers, reflecting on her past, present, and future. But not once during those evenings could she have ever foreseen her impending doom.

Long ago Regina had lost faith in the gods above. They had done nothing to ease her suffering and discontent. They hadn't protected her, those around her, Emma, or Emma's family. They'd done nothing, but bring misery. Still, even as she washed the last remnants of, what felt like, her past life, she prayed to the one who just might listen and grant her clemency. But for someone who had experienced the worst, Regina found everything too good to be true.

As the water became too cool for comfort, Regina slipped out, dried off, and gathered the clothes provided. They were nothing much but rags, an old coarse woolen tunic and slippers. Fit for the poorest of laborers.

She slipped on the fabric and tied the sash around her waist when there was a knock at the door. She opened it without hesitation and was greeted by someone completely unexpected.

"Darcy?" She was speechless as she stared at the man who had been by her side since her mother's ruling. A confidant unlike another, and a dear friend. He had been her Governor for the two years she served the throne and a private guard during her mother's reign.

His figure towered over her petite form. He still had his raven hair and beard. Both long and each tied in a single braid.

"Milady," he greeted, mahogany eyes meeting her as the rest of his body bowed.

It was but a second more before she leaped up in pure jubilation and gave him a fierce hug. He maneuvered them inside, giving her a silencing motion with his finger to his lips before closing the door.

"They spared you?" she asked as she cupped his cheek. "I feared they killed everyone in my house."

"Most all were executed," Darcy said solemnly as he separated them by arms length. "Tyron feared an uprising from those loyal in your house, Milady. I'm so sorry."

"But you are here. You were my most trusted friend, how were you spared?"

"I'm sorry, Milady," he spoke as he bowed his head in shame and knelt in front of her. "I pledged fealty to him and his house."

She was quiet for a few moments as she looked at her close friend of many years. Time had not been kind to him. His face was careworn, and his eyes seemed to have little fight left in them. Yet she saw the faintest burning within them. An inferno just waiting to breathe in oxygen and ignite into a fiery explosion. "You did what you needed to survive. I know better than anyone what that entails. I do not fault you for that, Darcy," she said as she asked for him to rise.

"If I may speak openly, Milady? The people of Black saw you as a cruel ruler, not quite the likes of your mother, but fierce nonetheless," he spoke.

Regina took in the statement with her chin high, reminiscent of her days as Queen. It was nice to know she hadn't lost something she had worked so many years, and endured much punishment, toward.

He continued, "But despite their opinions and hushed whispers, I saw and heard of stories spoken within the palace walls of mercy and humility given to many within her house by none other than a heartless Queen." Regina's eyes widened in panic, but she tried to remain neutral. "Those deeds were never uttered outside these palace walls. Were you feared? Certainly, but with that came respect and loyalty. And that loyalty did not perish with their death, Milady. It's still here and still very present," he declared passionately.

"Are you saying there are still those loyal to me held up within his house?" she asked with baited breath.

"Only one, Milady," he said with sorrow. "But he is willing to go to the ends of the realms to assist you with whatever you may need. I came to bring you that message and these clothes, curiosity of a Swan."

He handed her the set of clothing which was much more adequate than the tattered fabric she currently wore. She sifted through the layered clothing and found a wool riding skirt, a white button up blouse, and a well worn leather vest and belt, and two roughly stitched leather boots. It looked similar to the attire Emma wore, except for the skirt.

"Thank you," Regina stated in-kind as she gave him one last hug. His words only added kindling to the growing fire within her.

"You will always be Queen in my eyes, Majesty," he whispered as he opened the door to take his leave.

"Darcy, will you please inform Miss Swan I'm ready to see her."

"Certainly," he stated as he left Regina alone to her thoughts.

* * *

Emma had just breeched the lower level where Regina was awaiting her arrival. During the time apart, she had discussed overnight arrangements with the palace staff and Lord Tyron, none of which were overly exuberant of the Adviser, council members, or the fallen Dark Queen, taking residence within their dwelling. However, a compromise was reached, just as expected. Not many could refuse monetary compensation. It was simply human nature to want.

"Hey, look at you," Emma stated without thought to who she was addressing. Currently, in her stance, Regina looked just like the young girl from the forest. A young maiden readied for a casual ride, not a Queen, or a fallen Queen. Emma had to be careful with her words and actions. She didn't know the woman in front of her anymore. Didn't know her personality or character. What would set her into anger, or what would quell her fears. This was a learning process were they both would have to learn and accept the other again. So, Emma bowed out of respect and smiled softly, regarding Regina with admiration she had always held and would continued to do so. "Feeling better?" she asked.

"Most definitely."

"You certainly seem so. More relaxed, perhaps?"

"Just on the outside, dear."

"Well, this won't help with the nerves, but it'll get your strength up," she spoke as she reached into her pocket and withdrew a ball of cheese cloth. She unwrapped it to reveal an ugly and putrefied mound of bread. Regina gasped as she realized the significance of what Emma was holding. "Just don't ask where it came from," she said as she handed the mess to Regina.

"This is Grimish Seed bread," Regina spoke in awe. Grimish seed bread was kept under lock and key. A watchful eye never left it. Highly regarded as a miracle bread with properties in healing, rejuvenation, and revitalization. Peasants and royalty alike would commit acts of murder and treason just to obtain a spoonful of such bread. It had the capabilities to bring a starving house new life again. "How did you come across this?" she asked in a whisper.

"Told you not to ask. Wouldn't want you to be privy of my misdeeds." Emma smiled knowingly. "Just eat and enjoy. That'll do more for you in the next ten minutes than three daily meals for a month would. You need energy, and some meat on those bones, Your Majesty."

The title seemed to surprise Regina, but Emma didn't back down from it. She just watched in amusement as the past Queen forced down the foul tasting bread, trying not to retch in the process. It was quite comical to watch as the once leader tried to maintain her composer as her face turned a bright red and her eyes glassy as her stomach threatened to up heave what she just swallowed. It only had been a handful, but after several minutes, she finally managed to get it all down.

Finally, Emma extended her arm for Regina to take and they made their way upstairs to the grand courtyard.

"I have not set foot out here since mother's passing," Regina spoke as she looked to the sky with her eyes closed and inhaled the cool, dry air deeply. It hadn't changed. It was dead of winter, and the surround foliage mirrored that. Hibernating trees and shrubs dotted the landscape, and a few diseased apple, pear, and cherry trees formed lines across the far courtyard. The stone pathway and walls of the palace were chipped and weathered. Lifeless vines and weeds still clinging to them with vigor. Everything in sight was shades of brown, Gray, and black. No indication of life could be witnessed. It was bleak and dreary, the smell of damp earth and mold in the air. At least it was pure, and not the stagnant air Regina had breathed in for an octennial.

'Truly?" Emma asked and received a positive hum in agreement. "Well, why don't I take you to the foregrounds and you can see what we're dealing with."

"I know too well what we are dealing with, Miss Swan. It is just a matter of how to stop it, and that is something I am very uncertain about."

Emma nodded in return as they continued to walk through the courtyard in silence. Their feet sinking into the damp ground as they strayed every now and then from the stone path. "Can I ask you something then?" Emma breaking the silence that had enveloped them.

"You may," Regina replied, her head and eyes forward as their strides remained steady.

"Why are you helping us?"

"Do you wish for the truth, Miss Swan, or an elaborate lie thrust forward to ease you and your people's concerns?"

Emma huffed in light irritation. Just when she thought they were getting more comfortable with each other, the Queen, with her sharp tongue and authority, would slice through all the progress they had made. One step forward and a leap back. Patience, Emma reminded herself. Patience was a virtue, and one that she had mastered gracefully. She was an adept hunter and scout after all. "These are not my people," her answer short and to the point. "I have no people. It is me and me alone in these worlds, but I wish to live, and I don't desire to see innocent people murdered for the sake of revenge, power, control … whatever it may be. It's fruitless, but to answer your question, I would like the truth, if it's not too much to ask."

Regina stopped walking, as if to ponder her response. She simply shrugged and lowered her head, looking down as she twisted her fingers. "I do not know. I do not know why I agreed to help," she spoke. The honesty of the statement was evident in her tone, and that surprised Emma. "Setting in that despicable cell for nearly a decade can wear down even the sanest person. I presume reality simply hit me. I saw you and what you had to offer, and a part of me panicked. It was either die alone in that dark, damp hole, or help you and see light once again before my probable death."

"So you don't think there's a way to save the realms?"

"I would not say that, dear. It is just a matter of how and if we have enough time. There is a strong likelihood that I can, indeed, find a method to dispel it … _but_, how long will it take me to find such knowledge, and at that point, will everyone be satisfied with what I find, and what the outcome may be? My mother either hid or destroyed all her notes and books regarding enchantments and how the realms operate essentially. It is possible she destroyed the one most useful, but I think I can recall where she hid some of her collection. I can go through them this evening and report to you in the morning."

Emma nodded as they began walking back toward the palace entrance. "Sounds like a plan, Your Majesty."

"I am not the Queen anymore, Miss Swan. That title is inappropriate," Regina stated sternly.

"Perhaps not, but you're a former Queen, dark or not, and I was raised that such people deserve as much respect after their reign as during."

"I'm a _fallen_ dark Queen, and no respect comes with that, Miss Swan."

"Emma … _please,_ call me Emma."

"As with you, I was raised with etiquette and formality. It is not meant to be an insult or impersonal, it simply means a level of understanding—respect. Something of which you understand, no?"

Emma paused as she regarded Regina carefully. A look of longing and desperation in her eyes as her face fell. She was sure Regina saw it. "It will never be the same between us, will it? Too much has happened. We've changed."

"Indeed we have."

It had grown dark within the walls of the palace, and the glow emitted by the few still lit candle chandeliers and candelabras was peculiar as they reflected off the black stone walls. Emma had accompanied Regina in the library for several hours after their walk through the grounds. It was nearing the wee hours of the morning. The halls and chambers were vastly empty save for the stray night watchman posted at the major passageways. She descended to the lower quarters where the servant rooms resided. It was even more unnerving down there. She withdrew a small wall torch sconce from its holdings and proceeded down the dark hallway.

Halfway down, when the soft light of the stairwell was no longer in view, she heard the strain of a heavy door. It was the slightest movement, but she heard it like a shattering ceramic plate upon the stone floor. She stilled her movements quickly and glanced around her. She could see nothing; nothing within the diminutive radius of light that the torch provided. Her breath quickened as her heart thundered wildly within her chest. She turned to her left, directing her light source, and jerked back at the sight of two yellow orbs staring her down.

She was frantic as her feet and legs failed to keep up with her terrorized form. She didn't scream, and her movements, albeit frenzied, made no more noise than the soft fluttering of clothing. Her back hit the wall hard, and as she gripped her dagger, she slug the torch in the direction of the eyes. A loud hiss and the snarling growl of an angry feral cat echoed throughout the dark hallway. The damned thing had been perched on a ledge about head height. She mumbled curses under her breath as she contemplated setting the damn thing's tail on fire as it jumped from its post. It probably was mangy and flea-ridden, a carrier of diseases which Emma wanted no part in. She loathed cats ever since she was child when a stray cat jumped into her open window and ate her sickly song bird.

She palmed the clothing above her heart as she willed it to calm down, but it was in vain as another strain of a door grabbed her attention. Something was not right. Someone was watching her. She felt it as the knowing chill blasted from her scalp down to her toes.

Walking further down the hall, almost to her chambers, she noticed the adjacent door to her own was ajar. She clenched her hands and squared her jaw. She had a very good idea of who was waiting for her on the other side. She opened it slowly and walked in.

"I told you we would meet again, lady," a familiar voice spoke as he shut the door with a soft click and secured it with a tumble of the lock. He struck her in the face and grabbed her from behind before she could react any further, and put a blade to her neck. "Now it's my turn to have a little … _pleasure_," he stated sickly as he tried to grope her.

Suddenly, a sickening crack was heard as the back of her head made contact with his nose. The edge of the blade cut right under her jaw, but it didn't stop her from a well placed kick to his groin.

The dropped torch lit the room enough that Emma spotted two long upturned nails shooting from the wall. They were hangers, no doubt. She grabbed him by the front his shirt, hoisted him roughly to his feet, and then, with all the strength she could muster, threw him against the wall. The guard gasped out in pain as the nails pierced through his thin leather vest and latched onto flesh. The nails, surprisingly enough, held his weight and gave Emma the advantage where she lacked in size.

Nursing the cut on her neck and lip, Emma directed her anger on the threat that lingered in the room. She lolled her head side-to-side trying to get the soreness and stiffness out, and spat the gather blood out of her mouth. Lissome fingers surrounded the grip of her dagger as she released it from its scabbard. She crept up to him, and forced the pommel right into his lower abdomen.

"I know men like you," she whispered as her face reddened from both exertion and rage. Fingers tightened their hold on his throat. "My mother suffered because of the likes of you, and I will make sure you never touch another woman again, you _fucking sick bastard_!" she said as she withdrew her hand and stepped back.

The guard gasped for breath, his eyes wide and panicked as Emma's bracelets began to glow and pulsate. "You are the unluckiest man today," she spoke as she latched onto his head, thumbs at the edge of his eyes, "because all the hate and fury I've harbored these past years is about to be inflicted upon your flesh," she hissed, looking him directly in the eyes as the pressure on his head increased tenfold.

Their screams never breached the walls.

* * *

**Thanks guys for the reviews and alerts! They are always appreciated! :) Thanks for reading!  
**


	9. Chapter VII - Revelations

**Chapter VII - Revelations**

Dawn came far too quickly for the young woman currently seated at the edge of the bench. Emma's legs were open—relaxed, her back hunched, elbows resting on the table top, head tucked within them, and a soft groan spilling from her chest. Normally, mornings came easily, but after a night in the Black, she slept with one eye open. Her mind never once slowed during the night, so she resulted to tossing and turning before seeing the soft rays of dawn peek through her high window.

She readied herself for the day to come before heading up to the kitchens to see what food was available. The guards were being served their typical rations, so naturally, Emma joined them, but had enough sense to sit off by herself. It wouldn't take long before gossip rooted within the guards, and they discovered her actions of last night.

The smell in the dining hall was heavy and fusty. The horrid smell of stale flesh boiling in unflavored and unseasoned liquid sank right into one's gut. It was nauseating, and Emma didn't know if her stomach could take such a smell, let alone ingest such substance so early in the morning on an empty stomach.

A loud thud and then another a second later pulled Emma from her dreary state. She sat up begrudgingly; rubbing the sleep from her puffy eyes and took in the repugnant sight in front of her. There was a bowl of foul smelling, partially congealed liquid, a wooden spoon to eat it with, and a cup of thick brown liquid masquerading as coffee. Her face twisted in horror, but curiosity got the better of her. She picked up the spoon and jabbed the contents of the bowl much like a child. She'd gathered a spoonful and let it fall with a sickening 'plop'. But, she completely lost all control of her stomach contents when she picked up what looked like a stewed rat's tail. Her stomach roiled violently, and her face turned red. With her eyes closed, she pushed the bowl and cup to the opposite side of the table, far out of her reach and sense of smell.

By the Gods! Even she and her family, who were peasants at best, had more fitting meals than this. As much as she grew to despise barely pottage and dark bread, she would eat her weight in the stuff given the chance now, especially with what sat in front of her.

"Better save room for our course, lass," a deep voice spoke heartily as a heavy hand smacked her back. Her watery eyes sprang open to see her old mentor, Anders. "Wouldn't want ya to spoil ya appetite on this rubbish."

"Anders!" she said with excitement as she stumbled from the bench to give the older man a well-deserved hug. "You made it!"

"Aye, that I did."

"How's home? What about the portal? Is everyone okay?" she asked in a hurry.

A chuckled erupted from his chest as he sat down next to her. "Calm ya heart, lass. We'll get to all that soon enough, but from what I hear, you've made quite the progress yourself."

"I don't know about that, Sir. I guess we'll all find out soon, though."

He hummed as the crowd of guards began to diminish, but not before a brawl started over a ration of soup.

"You asked about home," he said, ignoring the fight as his fingers traced the knotted and split wood of the trestle table. "It's wasn't as badly damaged as once believed. Most was contained to the outer quarters. There was some damage done to the city, that's to be expected, but nothing that can't be fixed. Cleanup had already begun when I left."

Well, at least some good news had come to the day. Perhaps that was a sign of what was to come. Yesterday was rough, both mentally and physically draining, and Emma did not know how much more she could take before her resolve shattered into a thousand splinters. Granted, not all was bad. Good had surfaced above the desolation, and with that, came hope.

A quick inhale of breath showed her relief. "Good, that's—that's good."

"So tell me," he began as he focused his gaze on a point in the distance. He was trying to be nonchalant, perhaps not to bring attention to either one of them. He was turning a metal spoon within his hands as he talked. "You weren't by chance involved with the maiming of that guard from the dungeons, were you?"

"I haven't a clue to what you're referring to, sir."

"Good, I figured not. Poor bastard was dead when they found him. Quite the job done on him, so I was told."

"Really? Wish I had been there."

"Not that I need such, but please remind me to never piss you off."

"Duly noted, sir."

A deep throated growl grabbed both their attention as they sat wide-eyed staring at a decidedly large and burly guard. He probably made two of them, and he was eyeing them with ferocity.

"Ya goin' eat tha'?" he asked as he pointed at Emma's left over bowl. She replied with a quick "no", and he snatched the bowl and cup and downed them each in a single gulp.

"Yes, Mister Tibbins briefed me of all the happenings when I arrived. Are you sure you're all right with all this, lass? We can find someone else if you're not. Do not hesitate to ask if that's what you need."

"Not to sound proud, Sir, but I believe I'm the only one meant for the task, especially if she's in it with me."

"Well, it seems that you know her better than anyone. All that knew or gave two shits about her are long hanged and buried I'm afraid. Their voices are no longer heard; carry no merit here."

"I wish that were true, sir. But to be frank, I know no more about her than you or anyone else. I think the only difference is that I did once, and I still wish to."

Their conversation came to a lull as guests and other nobility filtered into the hall at irregular intervals. Several of the council members, including Ryker strode forth and sat adjacent and astride to Emma and Anders. It wasn't long until the hall was packed, and voices echoed off the bare stone walls. Occasionally, one voice would stand out among the rest, a few morning people, no doubt. At least they livened up the room.

The food was much of an improvement over the guard's rations. Slabs of pork fat, boiled eggs, oat and bread porridge, a beef pottage, and soft wheat bread were all placed on separate trenchers. Her mug was filled with sweet ale, instead of brewed coffee, which she was more than disappointed about, but she would not complain. Oh no, not after what she saw the alternative could be. So, Emma helped herself to the food in front of her, and hungrily filled her bowl.

* * *

"Well? What news?" Emma asked as Regina approached the breakfast table. Her hair was frazzled, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She had gone without sleep, no doubt.

A tired look befell the fallen monarch's face. "None good I'm afraid." She looked around the table at the council members and nobility that sat there. For many of them, this was the first time they had laid eyes upon her. Many looked on with trepidation, distrust, and betrayal. It was all in their eyes; that coldness that split one's spine down the middle, or just a simple stare. Regina did not falter under their intense gazes, but rather met them, and held her own steady as she addressed Emma. She kept her voice low, the message only intended for Emma. "May I speak with you in private?"

"'Course," Emma whispered in return. She turned to address her fellow council members before excusing herself. They both walked in silence through the corridors until Regina came upon her room. Emma entered first followed by Regina as she shut and secured the door. The room was small, much like the one Emma had stayed in, but here, papers, books, quills, and various shaped chests and boxes were scattered about the floor and table. Some were opened, and some remained closed and locked.

A sharp gasp drew her immediate attention back to reality as a worried woman made quick strides to her. "You are hurt," Regina spoke. Emma had seen the wounds from last night, but she had forgotten about them. She was sore, yes, but nothing alarming. "May I?" Regina asked as she reached out to her.

Emma nodded, and gentle hands were soon caressing the sensitive and raw skin surrounding the largest of the wounds. "This was deep," the older woman said as she investigated the gnarly cut. "It should have been sewn," Regina whispered. Her breath ghosted across Emma's neck and cheek, and Emma finally realized just how close the other woman was. She pushed such thoughts away and hid them deep within. Those types of feelings were dangerous and uncalled for in such a time. Now was not the place or the time to register such feelings, but as typical, one's body and mind often does what it pleases, and not what the owner commands. Instincts, really.

Emma jumped at the sudden pain that interrupted her inner workings. She winced again as Regina continued to look her over. "I'm fine," she assured. "It made it through the night, so…"

"I am concerned with it opening. I could tend to it for you?" she asked gently as her fingers remained on Emma's neck, just slightly lower on her neck, avoiding the sensitive skin of her gash. Emma hesitated and Regina sensed her concern. "I have tended to many wounds before, dear. Most your own if I recall." She smiled and Emma wondered how long it had been since such an expression touched her face. "You had a tendency to get into trouble," she concluded.

Emma smiled sheepishly as she bowed her head in agreement. Yep that just about summed up her younger years. "Yeah, I guess I was accident prone."

"Was?" Regina appeared skeptical with a knowing smirk bestowed upon her haggard face. "Seems you still are. Come, it will not take long, and then we can discuss what I have uncovered over the past night."

"All right," Emma conceded as Regina left the room momentarily to fetch the needed supplies.

To be honest, this was the last place she wanted medical attention. Without the advancements of the Gray or White, infections were rampant, and the practices rudimentary, almost medieval. She had seen far too many amputations and cauterizations in her childhood years. Enough to feature her dreams for the remainder of her life. Besides her mother, Regina had been the only other person in the Dark to treat her wounds. They had been the only people she trusted.

Finally, after what felt like several minutes, Regina returned with several items, including sutures, a bone needle, wine, vinegar, and balsam salve. She sat Emma down at a small table, laid out her supplies, and began work. "It seems the roles are reversed this time around."

Emma inhaled sharply as some of the wine and vinegar mixture was applied to her wound without warning. "Why you say that?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"You healed me not but a few hours prior," she said as she made the first pass with the needle and thread. Emma slammed her mouth shut as the pain inundated her system. It was bearable only because of the numbing solution added to the wine and vinegar. "You are just shy of spending a full day back in this realm and you have already found yourself injured." Regina said with amusement, trying to distract the other woman from the discomfort.

The needle and thread pierced and tugged at her skin pass after pass. One of the sensations that made one's body tremble with agitation from the constant and unrelenting pain. Emma wanted to hit something. Or something to release her built up frustration. After a slightly disapproving look and a particularly painful snag, Emma slammed her fist and arm against the top of the table. _There, much better._

"I know I have appeared ungrateful and cold, especially toward you … _E–Emma_," Regina began as she continued her motion, albeit more slowly. The forced use of her name was not lost on the younger woman."You have done so much for me these past few hours. Speaking for me when neither I nor anyone else had the right or courage. And I"—she started, but before Emma could voice her own concern first, Regina quickly amended her previous thought, and said the one thing she desired to say—"thank you. I know I have no right to ask you of anything, but please do have patience with me?" she concluded.

Emma saw a great deal of emotions spill across her features. She wondered just how much it took out of the fallen monarch to speak such truths. To reveal that much of herself to another being. She felt one last sharp tug as Regina broke the suture free. Emma nodded to Regina's last statement, and in return, she felt a cold salve being applied to her neck and split lip.

"You have nothin' to think me for, Regina," Emma whispered as Regina gathered up the supplies. She reached out her hand and loosely grasped Regina's arm for effect. A tender hand cupped her cheek. There was a genuine smile given in return as she left the room once more to replace the items.

Emma inhaled the heavy surrounding air. If she was only graced with a few sparse moments like that from Regina, she would surely take them over nothing. Even if they were only granted in private, Emma would immerse herself in them like an arid riverbed would soak up a yearly rain. Because it was moments like those when Emma witnessed who Regina still was, and with that, she knew she was not completely lost.

Once Regina came back to the room, all evidence of their previous encounter vanished as they took on a more serious note. The room soon overflowed with tension and anxiety. Emma encouraged her forward.

"I was informed early this morning that the council members will be unable to return to their kingdoms," Regina began as she stood in front of Emma who was still seated on one of the two stools. "I'm afraid transcendent travel, by any and all means, has been disrupted. The portal has stabilized, it's not any stronger, but it's merely one step in the process. As of right now, not a soul can leave his or her realm."

Emma looked on, eyes wide almost in a panic. "No one leaves?" she asked, but it was more of clarification for her own benefit. For some reason, she believed it more coming from her own mouth.

"No one." Footsteps began to sound within the room as Regina paced it width. "However, there might be a way stop it." Nothing was said after a few seconds as Regina planned her next words with the utmost care. This could change everything.

Emma, who had become restless, urged her on. "Go on," she encouraged; standing up to meet Regina who had moved to the center of the room with her back turned to Emma.

"Based upon what little information I've found, it can be dispelled," she stated. She turned to face the younger woman and placed her hand upon an old steel chest. It was secured with chains and an unbreakable lock. "There are these objects called purifier orbs. They were originally created to open new portals within the realms. These same orbs were used in the creation of our transcendent portals. They are virtually nonsexist, all were thought destroyed once the realms were established. There was concern of them getting into the wrong hands. But I know where a few lie." Her fingers tapped the metal surface. "If I can get to each realm and place one orb within the walls of each Spheric Sanctum and use the transcendent portals to transport this matter, I might be able to disable our trans-atmospheric portal."

Regina's hand drifted into her front pocket and pulled out an oddly shaped object. It looked nothing like a key but more like a miniature fork with two prongs on each side. For someone to see it, they would think nothing of it; appearing as no more than a mere trinket. The object was slipped into the seemly ordinary keyhole, but instead of it turning, a small clicked echoed through the room, and the lid cracked open.

One by one, four glass globes were recovered from the chest. They didn't shine or fill the room with energy, that's at least what Emma expected. Instead, a white smoke swirled around inside them. Particles glistening against the sunlight cast in the room. Regina placed them together, each making a dense click as they rolled into each other.

Emma reached forward and took one within her hand. It was smooth and surprisingly heavy for something that appeared so fragile.

"How do you have these?" she asked. Her eyes trained on the orb within her grasp; mesmerized by its qualities. "And how would these disable the portal? You'd just be opening the portals, nothing more."

Regina smiled as she took the orb from Emma, catching her eyes as she rolled the sphere between her palms.

That was when Emma noticed it. The softness that suddenly appeared within the fallen monarch's eyes. They were glassy as she seemed to study the inner workings of the object; almost in wonder and amazement. Childlike even. "They were part of my mother's collection. She kept all these and more hidden within the walls. Why she had them, well, that's yet to be determined, but I'm sure it was for nothing good. To answer your second question, that's not entirely true. By placing and activating the orbs it would create enough destabilization in the atmosphere, thus in theory, resulting to its collapse."

"The other portals—"

"They would remain fully functional. They were built to sustain such energy, whereas the trans-portal, it simply was not. It was designed with the thought no one could touch it. Where there was no threat there was no action needed to prevent it." Regina spoke as she broke her trance-like stated and began to place the orbs back into the chest.

"Well … that's all _great_ news!" she said as she slapped her legs in semi-frustration and sarcasm. A disbelieving smile painted her face as she stood. "But how, pray tell, do you suggest us accomplish this? To hear you tell it, we are stranded here, in this damned world." Emma said and began to pace.

Regina reluctantly agreed, lowering her head and nodding. "That's true to some degree. But I know something that only a select few know," she spoke as she approached Emma slowly, halting the young woman's movements as she took Emma's hands within her own. She closed the distance between so that a whisper would carry. "What I'm about to tell you must remain private. The knowledge of what I'm about to tell you, if heard by too many or even a few, would have catastrophic results to all of our worlds. It would be unprecedented and detrimental."

Emma studied her hard, eyes darting between Regina's own as she searched for any deception, but most importantly, the truth. A large swallow was forced against her throat; her fingers clenching against Regina's. "What is it you know, Regina?" Emma whispered in return.

Regina turned slightly towards the table and picked up an old and discolor sheet of parchment paper. Emma couldn't make out its contents, but it was full of colored pigment. However, once Regina held it between them, she recognized it as a map. A very large map. Eyes scanned across the paper as her mind tried to decipher what exactly she was looking at.

"Our worlds are not as separate as the Gods and Kings wish us to believe," she stated as her finger traced over an image and then spanned the page to touch another. "We are all connected, by one body of land. A very large body I might add but we are connected on the same plane nonetheless. We may have kingdoms, but all three lie on the same earth."

"What?" Emma asked. Her own fingers, trembling with trepidation, traced the same paths Regina's had.

"The Realms of Thrice are not completely separate worlds as we are made to believe." Regina pointed first to a hand drawn image and the inscription _The White_. Next was _The Gray,_ and finally _The Black_. "It was a lie made by the Gods to keep the Realms pure," she continued. "If people were to believe that the only way into one of the kingdoms was by portal, then they would not dare think to travel the unknown to reach such a place that, to them, didn't even exist. Why do you think the stories of the boundaries were told? It was all made to keep people in. But in reality, the realms are only separated by a thousand leagues, at the least. Granted, that's several weeks or months of travel depending on one's transportation. But if these maps and my studies have read correctly, we are more than capable of reaching one of the realms."

The younger woman nodded as she held the map and stared at it, as if it would suddenly spout off untold knowledge so all would make sense. In Emma's mind, that was far more likely than what supposed truths were being spoken. But looking at the fine sheet of parchment paper, she realized it all could be possible. "So, what you're saying is that we can travel to the realms without the portals, it will just take much longer? But the problem is we don't have weeks, and definitely not months. We're lookin' at any day now, correct? Any day our worlds could cease to exist."

"If I place one of the orbs in our transcendent portal here, in theory, it should allow enough time for us to travel the necessary distance to one of the realms, preferably the Gray. I see them being the most welcoming and understanding of this issue. But at the point where we reach The Gray, I should be able to re-establish portal transportation."

"This sounds crazy, you know. How are we goin' to get them to believe us? Hell, _I'm_ having a hard believing you."

"That's the beauty of a partnership, Miss Swan. When one's credibility is questionable, the other is there to counteract them. I know you. From what little I've witnessed, you have remained the same. Loyal … honest, almost to a fault. People trust you and your word. And against mine, well … my words are just a hair beneath dirt."

Emma paused in thought as she clicked her teeth together. A deep breath filled her lungs. "I'll gather the council members. They can be trusted with this information. We'll _both_ talk to them."

Regina nodded her consent, and after ensuring all the chests and items were secured, they headed off for a very important briefing.

* * *

The talks had quickly escalated and gone from chaotic to an all out shouting match, mostly between members who argued the fallen monarch's honor. She had none according to them, and, therefore, her words held no merit. Emma was quick to aid, and soon, the question lied not with truths, but with intentions.

A firm hand slamming upon the table top silenced the room. Alok had been granted access to the meeting, and was making his presence known. He was seething, face red with anger. The small veins in his temples and neck strained against his flesh. Spit flew with the force of his words, finger pointed accusingly at Regina. "And what do you get out of all this? Hmm?" he asked. "_You_ are the very one responsible for that abomination growing within our realms. You made this day come. Why are you so eager to help now?"

Regina weathered the outburst with all the skill of a practiced executioner. Her mask well placed and fitted securely, aplomb. No emotion present, not even the twitch of an eye or lip as she stared him down. "Perhaps I should not," she stated, her voice firm. "Maybe I should remain within my cell, shackled to the wall and begging for Ryu to take me to the Void … begging for Eira to have mercy upon me and let me die quickly. That would be the easier path. Until last evening, I was content with my fate. I was content dying within those damned walls. But only a fool would pass up the chance to see light once again, and I am no fool, Council Member."

"Why did you do it then?" Kael asked. "Why did you enact something that would ultimately destroy you and your world as well?"

"My mother enacted it. I was manipulated, and only helped because of her deceitfulness. My mother was a very vengeful woman, anyone could attest to that. Who knows why she planned this. She knew her death was imminent. She cared of no one but herself, not even her own daughter. So why would she want those she despised to live happy lives after her death?"

"And you turned out just like her." Alok spat. Regina's frame went rigid with anger, offense, and hurt.

"I _know_ I have committed horrid acts, but I was doing the one thing everyone lives by—survival. My mother was a cruel and heartless woman, but she was my mother, and I … I loved her. She was all I had, and that meant everything to me. But make no mistake, I am nothing like my mother."

That was the truth if ever spoken. Regina was nothing like her mother. Her mother had always spoken of how weak and powerless she had been. How much of a disappointment she was and how she would never rule the dark kingdom as she should. With an iron fist and merciless tactics. Instead, Regina lived with soft and tender heart. A heart her mother lived to break, and reforged into what it was now. Cold, empty, and heavy with burden.

After a few of the visiting members snickered at Regina's statement, and Emma had heard plenty. "Enough!" she said. "We know what must be done. Regina and I will make the untraveled journey to the Gray Realm. Let's just hope and pray to the gods that all goes well. I'll go gather our needed supplies and select our horses." She turned to address Regina directly. "Meet me at the south entrance at dusk. We'll leave at nightfall."

"You're mad!" Lord Tyron interjected. His eyes were wide with disbelief. "Night travel in this realm, with the fallen Queen no less? You're a fool, and a dead one at that!" he declared.

"Miss Swan is right. Not many dare to venture out into wilderness at night. Too many stories seep through these streets. Whereas day travel would be more convenient, it is not safe either. Night is the lesser of the two evils."

Alok huffed with contempt as he stared the evil Queen down. "You're one to talk of evils."

Ready to excuse both herself and Regina from the beginnings of yet another heated argument, the ever growing sound of chants and screams were heard seeping into the large barren room. She craned her head to the side and strained her hearing, hoping to find where the sound originated. But it wasn't coming from within the palace. It stemmed from outside the palace walls. Right in front, at the square. "Listen … do you hear that?" Emma spoke. Twisting her head in all directions, she looked for a set of North-facing windows. Finally reaching them, she saw a sight that made her whole body go cold.

"Seems word travels fast here," someone within the room commented.

Emma's eyes scanned the huge mass outside. The boisterous throng yelled and screamed as they wielded knives, axes, sticks, and other blunt objects. _Death to the Queen,_ and calls to Goddess, Senka and Layla, were all distinguished pleas from the ever-growing crowd outside. The black gates shifted as the weight and force of the crowd grew. The guards looked around nervously as they tried in vain to keep order.

Having seen enough, Emma jerked away from the window and stood protectively by Regina as she regarded Lord Tyron. "Is she safe here?"

He considered her words for but a moment. Indifference seeped from his eyes. "Here?" he asked as he held out his hands, palm up, motioning to the walls. "Yes, but once she leaves these bulwarks, no."

"She committed horrid acts against these people," Alok interposed. Grinning madly as he leaned back into his chair. "They have a right to be pissed, Miss Swan," he stated smartly; lips twisting into a wicked smirk as he continued. "Tell me." He leaned forwards, placing his elbows upon the table top and lacing his fingers together. He eyes challenged her in the silence. "Your mother and brother were murdered here, were they not?"

Emma tensed instantly as her fingers clinched into a fist. She would not take the bait, she would not take the bait, was a mantra she kept repeating to herself. He was taunting her. Trying to get a rise out of her, and to be honest, it was working rather well.

Regina watched with baited breath, her expression kept its neutral ground. She didn't like where the conversation was headed.

"How would you feel if your family's murder was set free? Your family cut short of justice? You would be enraged, would you not? You would want to kill the bastard yourself before his filthy feet even touched the ground, correct? But you would not know of such a feeling, would you? Your murderer is still free. Out there somewhere hating his miserable life, not even recalling the mother and boy he killed. They probably were a mere afterthought. Yet he's out there, prancing around these wretched streets … these halls even? You would kill him upon first sight, yes?" he asked fully understanding the nature of his words.

Regina could feel the burn in her lungs as all the blood seemed to spill from her body. Her breathing was fast, short and erratic as the White Council member spoke so blatantly and with much disregard for Emma and the deceased.

"That's enough, Alok!" Kael exclaimed as he forcefully stood from his seat; his eyes threatening and daring him to continue.

The White member lifted his hands in surrender and lowered himself into his seat. "Just simply trying to make a point, council member."

"You are out of line."

"My sincerest apologizes," he stated, trying to pacify the situation

"Of all the times for us to put aside our differences it is now! At this very moment! So stop the bickering … and let us figure out how to solve this issue that is affecting each and every one of us!" Kael said as the meeting was adjourned. It was official. Both she and Regina would head out at dusk, into a world neither, or anyone else for that matter, knew naught about.

Afternoon found Emma sitting on a large slab of rock beneath a bare tree. There was a definite chill in the air, and the constant breeze did nothing but wick away warmness retained. Even the rock that lay beneath her was cold to the touch, and proved to be uncomfortable the first few moments of contact. She weathered it though as the physical escape from the mounting tensions, and stress outweighed the need to be comfortable. She pulled out her dagger and a small whetstone and began running it the length of her blade. Emma found the motion soothing; a key element as her mind tried to relax and formulate a solid plan. It proved almost too much as the chants and angry yells flowed into the courtyard. Her strokes became heavy and uneven as tension climbed. With one last brutal stroke, she stopped; her breath heavy and material in the crisp air.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention away from the obnoxious calls for death. It was Anders.

"How quickly a plot thickens, eh?"

"Indeed, lass."

"Do you think it will ever get better? That the feud will ever end?"

"Tensions have always been high between the realms. 'Specially between the White and Black … to be frank, even the peace talks and creation of the Council didn't dispel this centuries long feud between the two. Poor Gray is just caught in the middle. Disliked by both." He said causally as he rolled a pebbled between his calloused fingers and tossed it into the air. "What?" he asked as he saw Emma's conflicted expression. "Surely you knew of this?"

Yes, Emma had certainly known of the conflicts involving all realms. She was a Scout after all, but the neutral façade put forth by both the White and the Black towards the Gray covered a malicious deceit. Most times, the Black were not shy in their dislike of the Gray. They made their opinions known, but the White, they concealed their contempt with utmost precision. It made Emma question everything. "I knew there were tensions, but I thought the Gray was on mutual grounds."

A deep sign of resignation left his lungs. "My dear Emma. The White see us beneath them and their superior ways. And the black? They think us superior and a threat."

"A threat? Why?"

"Because where do their people go when granted freedom?" he asked with an expectant look. "Where'd you go? Because people sure in blazes don't go to the White. No, my dear, we are stuck in the middle of a ragin' war between light and dark, and lass, that's not a place to be."

"I didn't sign up for this when I pledged my services to the Council."

"Ah Emma, since when are we given honesty and truth up front? They tell you what you want to hear at the beginnin', then once they've pulled ya in … you're at their mercy."

"Well, Scouting was one thing, becoming adviser to The Black and agreeing to march across unknown lands with … let's just say, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Let me tell ya somethin', you were my apprentice for many years, and if anyone can do this, and be successful, it's you. You are far more intelligent than ya give yourself credit for. You know survival, combat, not to mention you're one of the most skilled transcendents I've ever seen. You manipulate energy and force as if it were second nature. So trust me when I say, you, along with the Queen, are the finest two for the job."

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you."

He sighed as he reclined back, resting his palms against the cold rock beneath. He appeared contemplative for beat before he spoke again."Play this right, Emma, and you could be fillin' my shoes upon your return."

"Sir?" she asked, taken aback with the statement.

"I'm tired, Emma," he explained. "I've been at this for far too long. Bein' peace keeper to Realms who don't actively wish to keep the peace is so burdening. I'll be takin' my leave upon your return, the title is yours if you desire. I'll make sure everythin' is in order before you return."

"Miss Swan, are you ready?" a voiced called from across the courtyard. "We best be getting a move on," Regina stated as soon as she made contact with Emma who nodded and waved.

"Good luck, lass," Anders said with a genuine smile as he pulled her into a one-handed embrace. "May the Supreme beings above watch and guide ya."

"Thank you, sir…for everything."

He winked at her knowingly, "See ya when ya get back." He left her alone to catch up to Regina.

* * *

They were on their way to the stables when Ryker caught up to them.

"Hey," Ryker greeted as he sidled next to Emma, and then greeted Regina with as much warmth as his heart allowed. "I've found ya both good horses. Hearty and strong. They'll be able to hold out for the trip," he stated; proud of his achievement and contribution to the cause.

"I have no doubt, Mister Tibbins, but horse travel might slow us down in the long run, I'm afraid. They will be quick to escape the city and reach the boundary, their speed is unmatched in short intervals, and will do us well, but beyond that, they could be a burden. We know naught what fully awaits us pass the boundary, the terrain could be harsh—unforgiving, food and water limited."

"Oh." His fell feel, disappointment evident.

"But thank you. We will surely need them to escape the city. You have saved us significant time," she spoke in kindness.

Emma walked a few paces behind, listening to her friends interactions. As she walked, she kicked at the few scattered dry sections of the dirt path. She watched absentmindedly as rocks, sticks, and small dirt clumps rolled away from her shoes with swiftness. A few of the guards they saw in passing fitted Emma with death glares. She placed her fingers upon the cool metal of her dagger in reassurance.

The stables would be their last stop. First, they would gather supplies and ready themselves for the month's long journey. A couple bedrolls, several blankets, change of clothes, linen for shelter, and food supplies were all necessities. At a glance, it didn't appear as much, but it was just enough to help them make this impossible trip, and see it through to the end.

It took them a little over an hour to get everything squared away. Emma said her parting goodbyes to Ryker and Kael. They would wait for her arrival at the Gray, and then meet with her and Regina once the connection was reestablished.

Regina, under the supervision of Lord Tyron, placed one of the purifier orbs into the transcendent portal. Upon command, the orb vanished, and the first step toward victory was now put into motion.

The sun had just begun to set and twilight was upon them as Emma and Regina made their way to the stables. Regina sought out the stable owner as Emma entered the worn down building. Most all of the stall doors were open. A few horses extended their head's out in curiosity. A couple even munched on feed whilst watching with limpid eyes.

One stall, however, remained closed, and Emma briefly wondered why as she approached it with ease, believing it to be vacant.

"Be careful of him, girl," the stableman warned as he neared the closed stall. Emma jumped as a loud kicked rattled the wooded paneling of the door. "Meanest of the beasts we have. He once bit a man on his chest, separated muscle from bone it did. Poor bastard screamed for a fortnight," he said as he opened the top portion of the gate. The overeager horse poked it's head outside the stall to inspect it's visitors.

"_Great_," she muttered under her breath as she patted the stallion's face; trying to avoid it's mouth in the process. "I'm sure we'll get along fine," she voiced sarcastically to herself. These people were truly trying to get her killed, in the most painful way possible she imagined.

"His name's Trysu, he's the strongest and fastest we have, just like his brother, Uajo."

"Perhaps he'll be a better fit for Regina," she mumbled to herself and quickly looked for the brunette. "_Regina?_ Regina, I've found your horse!" she yelled to the older woman, but was surprised when the troublesome stallion nuzzled her ear and hair, getting green saliva on her hair, face, and shoulders. He munched obnoxiously on his feed, his bit clanking hollowly in his mouth right next to her ear as he continued to investigate his new rider.

Emma had never been particularly fond of the hoofed creatures. It wasn't that she disliked them per se; she just had never been exposed to them. At least until Regina came along.

Regina had been a skill horsewoman. She always considered them majestic creatures with ample soul and strength to give to their masters, and since horses were attainable only by the wealthy, they were seen as luxury. A luxury Emma and her family never had. It had irritated Regina to no end when Emma had refused to accept riding lessons when they were younger. But Emma saw no need in wasting time on something she'd never employ. Now, however, Emma would have taken those lessons with gusto. Especially if she's to survive on this rambunctious animal.

The horse whickered loudly into her ear, causing Emma to jolt back in surprise and pain from her now ringing ear. She glared at Trysu as a melodious laugh reached her good ear. "Oh no, Miss Swan." Regina grinned mischievously as she approached Emma and her horse. "He seems to have taken a great liking toward you," she spoke fondly as she reached into her bag and retrieved an overripe apple. The horse took the apple with eagerness and exhaled in excitement. "No, I shall take his brother. After all, the horse chooses their rider, not vice versa. Come along now, we best get a move on."

After everything was situated on the saddles, both women mounted their steed, and they were off for a never-ending adventure into the land of the great hollows.


	10. Chapter VIII - The Ties of Friendship

**AN: For anyone interested, I'm going to include a link in my profile page to a map I've created of The Realms of Thrice. It's nothing spectacular, but could be used to help get a feeling for the world(s) and the journey Emma and Regina are about to embark on**.

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or added this story to their alerts. It means more than you know, and is appreciated. :) Also thanks to the guest reviewer "JJ" for catching some of my mistakes. :)  
**

**As always, no beta so all mistakes are my own. **

**Now, onward!**

* * *

**Chapter VIII - The Ties of Friendship**

A set of eyes watched as a Scout of Gray / Adviser to Black and an Evil Queen settled into the shadows of the night forest on horseback. The only indication of their presence was the frequent snap of twigs and the rustle of undergrowth by massive hooves. Ryker inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he released the breath slowly. All left to do was wait. Wait for an end. Wait for a continuation of what was. Wait for a new beginning. The unknown had to be the most terrifying. But seeing his longtime friend riding off into strange lands next to an entity filled with darkness brought little comfort, but Ryker trusted Emma, and if she trusted her life to the fallen monarch, then what right did he have to judge.

Silence soon fell upon the grounds and with that came a certain eeriness. Each breath could be seen in the night under the artificial lights. Torches and rush lights lit the surrounding palace and foregrounds, all the way up to the exterior walls. A heavy fog was settling in. An after effect of the bay and cold ground. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his vest, allowed his shoulders to fall, and then turned around to make his way back to the palace.

"Master Anders," Ryker greeted, almost startled by his mentor's sudden appearance. "All's well I hope?"

Anders nodded while approaching the young man with sharp eyes and solid steps. "A word," he spoke under his breath and walked to a remote section of the yard. They were within the shadows and out of ear's reach.

"We are alone here," Anders began as his unseen eyes scanned the night in suspect. "These people are not our friends, they're our foes."

Anders knew very well the two-faced nature of man, especially men from The White and from the Black. Both had their own agendas and would talk kindly to your face, and then slide a knife right into your back a mere second later. Honor, even by those of supposed righteous values such as those of light, was nonexistent. No, despite what they wanted everyone in the three to believe, they were just as crooked and dark as those very beings they condemn. Hypocrites they were. Oh, the irony. Perhaps the truest and most straightforward people were that of The Black. They did not deny who they were or their faults. But again they were nothing more than labels. Every realm is like that to a degree, though. People are only defined and judged by their labels—actions. They are seen in black and white, never in gray or in color. Two-dimensional instead of three. One facet instead of many. The Gray like to think otherwise, but they were just as guilty as the others.

Ryker leaned forward, brows furrowed, with his hands still shoved in his pockets as he regarded his former mentor. "Sir?" he asked unknowing where Anders was headed in the conversation. His eyes followed a watch guard with torch in hand as he made his rounds a few yards from them.

Anders lowered his voice further. "We can trust no one here, but the sad reality is we're stuck here. Nowhere else to go. Stranded in this wasteland," he spat the last word with venom. "I fear there's somethin' more goin' on than the eye can see. Listen closely, and keep yer eyes open. We need to know who our real enemies are, and who just get'n the way."

Ryker nodded as he remembered a very piece of information that had been told to him just this afternoon. "The dark Queen spoke of someone still loyal to her, here, in this palace. He was her old Governor, I believe. Darcy was his name."

"Darcy? And you heard this straight from the Queen's mouth?"

"Emma's, sir."

Anders was silent as wintertide bugs began their nightly ritual. Ryker heard the older man swallow and stroke his beard several times in contemplation. "Right," he began. "I need you to do a little diggin'."

"Sir?"

"You're a Scout, are ya not? So put yer skills to good use, an' find out what Lord Tyron knows, because I sure as Hell don't believe he's ignorant to these events. I'll find and speak with this Darcy character."

"D'you believe Lord Tyron had somethin' to do with this?"

"Let's call it an inklin', but we'll find out one way or another."

* * *

Twilight had fallen and the shadows of night now blended forebodingly into the surrounding darkness. No wonder nighttime was so often the center of nightmares and bad happens. It concealed the beasts and torturers of day and allowed them free roam in the tenebrous cover. It was fitting that both women decided it best to travel in the shadows of night. Obscurity was their best friend at the moment. At least until they breached the far boundary.

Two hours had since passed as Regina and Emma finally broke through the limits of Gravens and its surrounding area. They had remained silent through the trip, afraid of unwarranted attention to those walkers of night. The horses had been pushed hard, their powerful gallop making quick work of the long distance. The horses were sturdy beasts, but extremely agile and light on their feet. They were a northern breed, bred for hard labor and harsh environments, which included rough and uneven terrain. They were perfect mounts and guides for the unknown road ahead.

Visibility was naught as they both finally made their way to the edge of the woods. They were nowhere near the boundary, and if Emma had understood Regina, they still had yet to pass into the Dark Forest of Fawr. If Emma had to guess, she would say that forest was in their direct path.

Emma, feeling uneasy at the drawn out silence, decided they were surely far enough out to engage in quite conversation. "So," Emma began; her voice raspy from disuse. She cleared her throat for good measure. "What lies out beyond the boundary?" Emma asks as she leant forward to accommodate her horse who was mounting a steep hill. Both horse's hooves crushed the dead and rotten foliage as they moved. Dull thumps were heard methodically as they beasts moved in tandem with the other. Regina was leading the way as Emma followed closely behind.

Regina turned slightly in the saddle to address Emma. "Only the Gods know," she stated as she motioned for Emma to ride beside her. The hill had given way to a large grass field that looked to stretch for several leagues. But in the distance, an even darker void silhouetted against the night sky. Thick, dark forests stared threateningly at them in the horizon.

"Well," Emma began as she tried to ease her nervous and mind of the daunting journey before them. "I don't know about you, but my childhood was filled with stories of beastly creatures, half-breeds, and lonelings that roamed the great hollows. Folklore told to children to keep them well away from the boundary, I guess. Much like the grim fairytales parents too often tell their children. Both were stories meant to instill fear and caution. It worked because I never dared to venture too close."

Regina smiled despite herself and kept her eyes trained on the path in front of them. "Truly? Well, if I recall, you were pretty insistent of escaping the dark lands and traveling to a far off place. Am I mistaken?" Regina asked.

"No, I did yearn to escape," she confirmed. "But what child doesn't see themselves as invincible? Able to take on the all the worlds, Gods, Goddesses, and beasts that stand in their way. I think it's human nature to defy rules. How else does one learn but through mistakes and missteps?" Emma suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. She certainly learned that way.

"I'll be sure to remember that when you so blatantly disregard common sense out here." Regina teased. Emma took the, what she would consider, playful swing at her character with stride; smiling inwardly to herself.

"Whatever you say, _Your Majesty_. But I know you're still fond of me." Emma joked and she saw Regina roll her eyes in mock irritation. Gods, she could still annoy this woman in the span of a candle flicker. This would definitely be a memorable journey.

"Don't be so sure, dear. I _loathe_ everyone," she said with exaggeration, giving her best monarch impression. "But you really should not call me that out here," she stated quickly as she gave Emma her best glare. "That title served its purpose long ago, and you'd be best to remember that. She's the last person you want me to be. Furthermore, it would only bring us unwanted attention. I am sure there are many traitorous thugs who would love to get their hands on the fallen Queen."

Emma regarded her gently and with care as she spoke. "You won't have to worry, Regina. With your exquisite skills at a bow and arrow, and my skills with a sword and energy, I'd say we're both in capable hands."

Regina's face fell at the mention of her previous sport. "Well, considering it has been nearly a decade since I last held a bow, let alone shot one, I'd say I would have a better chance at falling from my horse than hitting a target. Especially under pressure."

Emma heard disappoint in her voice. "Don't discount yourself, Regina. The moment your hand cradles that bow and your fingers grasp an arrow, you'll wonder why you even thought that in the first place."

Regina smiled into the night as her right hand moved to her back and gripped the smooth wood of her bow. Fond memories came with the touch. The bow had been made by her own hands nearly thirteen years ago. She'd had help of course. Her private guard, Dane, personally oversaw its making, aiding her in gathering the appropriate woods, tools, and other materials. It was done without the knowledge of her mother. Using riding lessons as a cover for not only her time away with Emma, but also in crafting and mastering the bow and arrow. She remained silent in thought as Emma, sensing the heavy air, opted for a change in topic.

"So, which way is our intended destination?" Emma finally asked as the tension between them seemed to melt away at the crossing of the final line before they marched into The Dark Forest Fawr. In front of them lie leagues and leagues of dark, oppressive forests. The Black Realm was notorious for them, among many other things, of course. But the Dark Forests often held untold secrets. They were within the boundaries, often acting as borders themselves, but many dared to venture into them. Past the forests, lies the Mountains Zanthur within the Great Hollows. Past them, no one knew.

"The mountains in the south." Regina stated as she pointed ahead. "Just past them, is The Realm of Gray according to my notes and readings."

Emma knew exactly the mountains Regina spoke of. She had spent years gazing at those same mountains. The only distant mountains in the Black, and they just happened to be the same mountains she looked upon while in the Gray. "The Mountains of Zanthur? Those are the same?" She whispered the last question more to herself in astonishment. Of course she had never suspected those to be the same mountains, they were, after all, suppose to be in an entirely different realm—an entirely different world. That knowledge in itself was mind boggling. "I constantly wondered why they appeared so familiar. This is unreal."

"You know those mountains by name? How?"

"I don't _know_ them. They were just always part of my childhood folklore. I always pretended an ancient dragon took refuge within them, and one day, the beast would awake and lay siege to the city, and I, of course, would be the one to save everyone from emanate doom."

Regina chuckled. "You had quite a flight of imagination. I remember your stories … flamboyant stories concocted within your overly active mind," she teased. "But I enjoyed them nonetheless. They were far better than my own imaginings. More colorful, grandiose. I would often retell them to myself in my chambers whilst awaiting sleep to take me. It was an escape."

"That's the idea. Why do you think there is such a need for storytellers? It offers an escape where there is none otherwise. Keeps ya sane."

"Leave it to you to always be the heroine," she said quietly, but it was without malice. Her words were only filled with fondness. "I wrote them all down, you know," she continued. "I spent many hours locked away in my chambers, or the library if my mother was feeling particularly gracious. I would sit with a stack of unbound papers and an inkwell and quill. I would write in the evenings, mornings, or afternoons. I had stacks of papers filled to the outer margins with writings of your stories, some of my own which weren't worth the space. I had them bound in secret, and kept them in a hollowed out section of my bedroom wall, wherest mother would never find them. I'd wished to share them with my children someday. I presume they are now lost."

Emma wanted to speak, to say something—anything that would hold as much meaning to Regina as those words had meant to her. Her mind refused to produce any intelligible sentences, but finally, the words formed and were voiced. "I'm honored they meant that much to you. Here I always thought they were nonsensical stories voiced to a young girl who was too kind to say otherwise." A hint of a smile sprouted across her windblown face as her chapped lips split from the expression. She quickly licked them, instinctively attempting to moisten them, and tasted blood.

Regina regarded her quietly as she kept her pace steady. She fiddled with the leather reigns resting at the horn of the saddle before speaking. "Perhaps you have new stories to tell?" she asked. "Many years are now behind you. Many experiences follow many years. I'd venture, your stories have changed drastically, no?"

"Not really, no. More mature, realistic perhaps, but the general idea still remains."

"We have long days and nights ahead of us. Maybe some of that time could be allotted for such trivial enjoyment?"

"I'd like that. I'd imagine you have quite a few stories to tell now yourself," Emma said without much thought. Therefore, when Regina's response came to pass, the younger woman was taken aback.

"None that I wish to share," the fallen Queen spoke sharply before urging Uajo into a canter, quickly putting distance between herself and a bewildered Emma.

It took Emma a few seconds to realize what exactly was happening as the sound of a heavy and fast gait drew further away. Almost riding blindly, Emma coaxed her horse forward in hopes of catching up to Regina.

"Regina?" she called as quietly as her voice would allow. "Regina, if I've said something to offend you, I'm sorry. That was never my intention."

"Think naught of it, Miss Swan," she stated as she paused in the field. "I told you back at the palace to have patience with me. You have to understand that not but two nights ago I was a captive. All of my hope and desire to live was lost. My past is not something that will ever easily or completely be overcome. Please understand my thoughts are still as dark as the Void Keeper's robe, and for now, they are all that is left of me."

They traveled lightly, keeping the horses at a subdued pace. The leisurely walk did both women leagues of good. There was not much conversation, merely the methodic beat of the beasts underneath them and the constant hum of various night insects, birds, and other forest dwellers. It was the sound that everyone knew and had experienced. The type of sound that might have gone unnoticed until one stopped to hear and appreciate it for what I was. It was nature's own symphony and acted as the background for all of life's journeys. It was soothing … mesmerizing. Calming stormy souls with its grace and subtlety.

Emma felt a front moving in. The wind was heavy, fierce, and biting. Bringing in the all too well known frigid airs of The Northern Mar. The hairs on the back of her exposed neck stood on end as she clutched her heavy coat and blanket tighter against her. She glanced over at Regina who seemed too preoccupied with her own matters than that of the approaching weather. She donned the same attire as Emma and cared an equal load in supplied. Perhaps it was just Emma who was unused to the weather. Regina, after all, had never left the gripping season and months of winter in The Black. She too had been imprisoned in a small unheated cell with only mere rags and a ratty, moth-eaten blanket to counter her chills. The dungeon was certainly not insulated, so Emma could only cringe with the sheer brutality her old friend had suffered. In truth, the cell was probably kinder to her in those years than her mother had been her entire life.

Emma cleared her throat from the hours of disuse before she directed her words to the only other person with her. "There's an inherent chill to the air," she stated hoarsely. "I believe there's a front comin' in."

"Hmm, yes. I believe you're correct. Doesn't feel as strong as it normally does, however. But expect it in the future, nonetheless. You know how unpredictable the weather is. We best not anger the Gods any more than necessary. We need them on our side while we trek across these suspect lands."

Emma nodded her understanding.

"How long until we're clear of this forest?" Emma asked as they maneuvered through the dense woods. They had been riding for hours and Emma was desperate for a break. She shifted in her saddle as she awaited Regina's response.

"I don't expect until late evening tomorrow or the day after."

"You mean we hafta camp here?" Emma asked. Shocked painted her fact, but in truth, she shouldn't have been nearly as surprised. What else were they to do? Sleep and rest were necessities with a journey this long and unknown. Exhausting terrains and daunting mental and physical power plays were sure to be at their worst. Neither woman knew the paths that awaited them, or in actuality, where those same paths would lead for certain.

But one thing was for certain now, and that was the drifting night. Its reign was over until it was inevitably called back again. For now, light was incipient.

"It's the Blue Hour," Regina observed as she looked to the small slits of blue sky hidden behind the forest understory. The heavens were dark, but a magnificent royal blue filled the atmosphere as the rising sun chased away the darkness. It would be light soon which meant they could finally stop to rest. "We will need to find an appropriate stopping place for the day," Regina said as she eased Uajo's step. He whickered in appreciation.

There had been a stream that cut through the dark forest. They had done their best to avoid following too close with fear of what they might come across. After all, water was a necessity in life, and often tempted those who you did not wish to find. But both women agreed the stream would likely benefit them: water, possible shelter with rock formations, trees, or shrubs, and food. After following the stream for half a league, they spotted several small landings secured by a wall of dense and vine covered trees.

They dismounted their steed, removed what few supplies they needed for the short stay, and allowed Trysu and Uajo to drink and graze.

Since daylight was upon them, Emma gathered what few dry timber she stumbled upon. While the air was cold, it wasn't as miserable as it could have been. The thick trees and brush shielded them from most of the wind and moist morning air.

The winter quarter here was different, though, as opposed to the Gray, or even within the limits of Graven. Here it was a cold, wearisome place. Everything was bare and the wind howled with deafening ferocity through the bare trees and thickets. The chill penetrated layers of clothing and left one feeling iced from the inside out. The sky above was ominous, dreadful, and gray. It blended nicely with the other dull and muted colors of winter. Shades of gray, browns, blacks, and light, sickly blues surrounded one's world in hopelessness and misery. Every step was tiresome and burdening as the sodden ground shifted under feet, threatening to bring the traveler to their knees in humiliation. The muck and sludge from mires bogged down clothing with heavy mud. It was hell on earth, and damn the person who painted winter to be a season of beauty and peace. Heaven on earth when all was painted in pure white snow. It was a sign of purity and innocence when the worlds were silenced with such beauty. The rarely occurring hoar frost was thought to be one's first and last sighting of The Shinning whilst alive. But Emma had never seen such spoken beauty. Perhaps it was something only the nobles and wealthy adored and experienced. They would sit inside their homes in front of roaring fires and full bellies as poor laborers and peasants suffered to heat those homes and fill said bellies, and at the end of the day, those same people who kept society functioning, went to their shacks and often starved or froze to death. Sure, Emma thought; heaven on earth indeed. Life in the Gray wasn't this hard, but her years in the Black were enough to give her lasting memories of hardship and pain.

Emma built a small fire and gathered some snow and frost berries. No use using up their food rations this early in the journey. Not when nature was so willing to provide. She would have hunted for small game, but had no traps or weapons that she was willing to use. The bow and arrows were to be saved for a later date, when they would surely need them for true survival—living or dead. Emma made note to make some spears and traps when they stop at a more permanent location once outside the boundary.

Emma made her way back to the makeshift camp where Regina sat stoking the small fire. She must have finished tending to the horses. A job Emma left solely to her, given her knowledge about the beast.

Emma grunted as she sat down on the cold rock. Stiffness gripping her usually fit form. Regina didn't seem to be fairing much better as she palmed her lower back. Horseback riding seemed to test muscles one didn't even know he or she had, and whereas Regina had leagues of experience with such sport, she obviously hadn't for near a decade. Trying to keep her grimace at bay, Emma handed Regina a palm full of berries and a few leaves of mentha.

They sat in silence as they ate the sweet and tart winter berries. The songs of crows and the moving water of the stream allowed the silence to move on without awkwardness. It was odd that more conversations had yet to take place between them. As close as they had been, there was still thirteen years of separation, and thirteen years of questions that need answers. But where does one begin with histories such as theirs? From the beginning? From the middle? Or do they simply start over? It was like they had to relearn and reacquaint themselves with the other. The natural comfort and ease had never dissipated; Emma had experienced it first hand, and so had Regina. Their moments of touches and gazes spoke volumes to their endless connection.

Emma inhaled the fresh air of morning as she finished the last of her berries. She'd decided to just allow things to move naturally between them. Nothing ever came of forcing something, and for Emma, this was far too important for missteps. They'd get there, she was confident of that.

Emma dusted her hands off and noticed Regina fumbling with the new bracelets on her wrists. Unconsciously, she fiddled with her own, her fingers gliding over the smooth, cool metal. She thought back to the day she first was exposed to such foreign objects. The emptiness and weightlessness felt on her hands had been new and welcoming, and the metal that had been placed her wrists had felt freeing.

When Emma looked back up, Regina's fingers had moved to the bandages wrapped around her hand. Her fingers and thumb caressed the area of skin where the receptor of black had once been placed. Emma had remembered with vivid detail how the closed wound itched for days and the infection that had developed.

Emma stopped her movements, and went to sit by Regina.

"Here," she began as she motioned for the older woman's hand. "Lemme see?"

Regina watched her through guarded eyes as she lifted her upturned palm toward Emma.

Emma took them each one by one within her own hands and removed the bandaging. She looked at them with a keen eye, vigilant for any signs of infection. Pleased with the improvement, she spoke, "They're healin' nicely. You shouldn't have nearly the scars that others do."

When Regina looked up to regard Emma, she noticed how close the younger woman to her. While gentle fingers marked her palms, Regina's eyes traveled the length of Emma's face, taking in all her imperfections; the twin scar on her lips, the one on her eyebrow, a deep indentation on her left cheek, and the healing wounds that would become just another tangible piece of her life story. She had grown into a beautiful woman. She swallowed audibly as she recalled the last time she had seen Emma. Emma had just been ten years old. Ten years old. Remarkable.

Regina jumped from her recollection as she felt cool fingers brush the slightly raw skin. She inhaled sharply, but as Emma paused her movements and looked up, Regina lifted her right hand, and cupped her cheek.

Emma closed her eyes at the sensation. She would gladly take hours of silence for a second of Regina's calming touch.

"Your scars are far more prominent than mine." Regina spoke reverently as she examined the rough skin adorning Emma's palm. Her fingers lightly traced the jagged patterns right before she brought it to her lips and placed the faintest of kisses against Emma's skin. "Did they not heal you before you went into the Gray?"

Emma swallowed thickly as she tried to alleviate the dryness now consuming her mouth. "No, I was an 'unofficial' transfer. I wasn't presented to the Council of Thrice. I was taken as a stole away."

Regina looked at her with blatant curiosity and bafflement. "You mean you went illegally? How were you not detected?"

"I was, but for some reason they allowed me to stay. I guess I had abilities and knowledge they needed. They utilized me the best they could, and I was good at what I did. But generally, one's receptors are removed prior to transfer, but because of my circumstances, I went to the Gray with them on. The Marker there had no idea how to remove them. So I was mangled and butchered as they came off."

Grief washed over Regina's face as she downcast her eyes to Emma's palm and stroked it ever so gently. Her fingers trembled as emotions and thoughts proved almost too much to bear. Regina believed there was only so much insurmountable pain and anguish a living person could tolerate. And she knew she was as close as she's ever been to breaking completely. She vowed to keep it at bay until their journey was over, and she was no longer needed. With a shuddering breath, she enclosed Emma's hand within her own two and squeezed with a kind touch. "I'm so sorry, Emma."

"Hey," Emma encouraged as she tried to meet eluding eyes. "It's nothing you did."

The sincerity of her words gnawed at Regina's chest, making it seize in protest. "How could you possible know that?" she asked.

Emma searched crimson eyes, desperate for any hint of what was causing her friend such sorrow. As usual, the fallen Queen held her walls up well. Her eyes were equally untelling as they were remarkably apparent. They told countless stories, like books. They had a story to tell. A tome full of little happiness, suffering, hatred, and fear. A book not for the lighthearted. But reading her book was like trying to read through thick and unpurified forest glass. The words were distorted, unreadable, but the pages as a whole were visible, alluding to a powerful story within.

"Look," she started after a releasing a calming breath. Her eyes eased their intensity as she spoke softly. "We're out here alone. We're all each other has, and we are the only hope for thousands of innocent people…for the three kingdoms. I know it's beyond possible, but I just wish, for a fleeting moment in time, we could forget about our pasts, and start anew…a blank slate, if you will."

Regina shook her head sadly. "You know that not feasible. Our pasts are too prominent in our lives. It makes us who we are."

Emma's lips formed into a poignant smile. "Then humor me, just for today…please? Just for today."

"Very well. Why don't you rest for awhile? I will keep watch—"

"Oh no, I've had far more sleep than you. I'll watch."

"Sleep does not come easily for me, Emma."

"Nor for me, but you rest first. I'll be right here."

The older woman reluctantly conceded as she reclined against the truck of the tree and rested against Emma's side. Emma, for her part, encouraged Regina closer for warmth as her right arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"I always said I would protect you," Emma whispered as she felt the older woman's breathing settle to deep, methodic breaths. She couldn't see Regina's face, and didn't know if her dreams were kinder for the time being or not, but she held her close, foolishly believing it would be enough to keep the monsters at bay. Her eyes fixed on the fire as the hot flames licked the black and ash logs. "In my heart I always believed I could. What a distorted view of reality the mind of a child has, huh?" she huffed in frustration. "I didn't know much about failures then. If I fell, I got back up. When injured, I healed and continued on. I always found a way to solve things. Never giving up. Never losing hope. I mean you had to if you were to survive. But my failure to protect you was the first of many, and the hardest. I guess because I discovered I couldn't solve or fix everything. Things happen out of your control, and you are helpless to stop them. You're just expected to accept it for what it is and move on. But I couldn't, Regina. Not for you and not for my family."

She stopped at that and looked at the area surrounding them. What a dark and desolate place they were at, but at least the wildlife was here to drown out the oppressive silence. She relaxed against the tree with Regina and tried to make the most out of their temporary stop.

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**Reviews are always appreciated if you have the time. :)**


	11. Chapter IX - Darkness is Deceiving (Pt1)

**AN: Thanks so much for all the wonderful, encouraging reviews and for all the alerts! It means a lot! :)  
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**Chapter IX - Darkness is Deceiving (Part 1)**

Sleep had found Regina for a couple of hours before her pained mumbling and ruffled, sharp movements could be heard breaking the silence of the late morning hour. The surrounding woods held an eerie silence, save the panicked movements against the forest duff.

Regina's brow was damp with sweat as it beaded up on her forehead and ran off into her hair, dampening it. Her eyes shifted beneath her eyelids as vivid images were unconsciously conjured in harsh detail. Dreams such as these became routine, nevertheless unwelcome in any regards, in her nightmares. She hoped such dreams would have left her at the passing of the boundary, but she had little hope now.

Her head twitched as the nightmare took shape. She resided in her throne room, surrounded by her knights, guards, governor, and a chained prisoner being forced toward the throne by two armored guards. Their twisted and blackened faces looked toward her, unseeing and still. Movements exaggerated and slow—restrained, as the scene unfolded. She raised her hand and it responded sluggishly. It was similar to those dreams where she needed to run, to get away, but her legs either refused or moved so slowly her nightmare consumed her. Snippets of the dream lasted for only a few moments before her throne morphed into a black abyss and then sucked her through.

Her screams woke herself as she sat up disoriented. She clutched at her tightening chest as her heart beat viciously and her breathing became erratic. A large black tree in her peripheral startled her, causing her body more stress. She looked around frantically and realized she was alone. Her mind raced as she remembered the memory her dream triggered.

It had taken place a few months after she had been crowned Queen of the Black. Impressions had to have been made with haste if she expected to retain order and peace, especially those living outside the palace gates.

_The guard on the left had slung the accused man forward. His feet slipped beneath him as he spilled to the floor. Chains clanged loudly against the stone as his bound hands caught himself. He had remained bowing on all fours before one of the guards gripped his left shoulder and pulled him right up to face the Queen. _

_"__Your Majesty," the first guard had begun. "We caught this man red handed stealing from the infirmary bins. We recovered these pills, a jar of perry, and some dry cakes," he'd stated as he approached the Queen and showed her the items._

_She had pursed her lips as she surveyed the confiscated items and the thief who had taken them. His head remained bowed. He had known better than to make eye contact with her. _

_Her fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm against the wooden arm of her throne. "Are you at such a low point in life, peasant, you must feed your substance abuse by robbing my infirmary? I don't take kindly to thieves … or impulses driven by over indulgence," she had stated and regarded the man with contempt. Her voice had been even and calm. "Do you deny these claims made forth by the Guards and Court of The Black?"_

_"__Yes," the man had mumbled._

_"__You do?" she asked. Her eyes wide and in disbelief. "Then how, pray tell, do you explain how these items came on your being? You did not take them?"_

_"__I did take them, Majesty, but me wife and son are gravely ill. I only have enough medicine for one. I didn't think anyone would miss a few pills bein' taken for the sick an' needy."_

_Regina had reclined back on her throne as she contemplated her next move. She had heard her mother's sickening voice within her mind. Even in death, her mother had still controlled her. 'Make an example of him', the voice had taunted. 'They'll see you as weak if you allow him to be released without punishment. Are you truly going to believe his sob story, dear?' Regina had tried to blink and shake away the poisonous words her mother's voice had dripped. _

_"__A thief is a thief, regardless of intention. Your wife and son should have visited the infirmary themselves—"_

_"__We couldn't afford it—"_

_"__Hold your tongue, ingrate," a guard had growled before he struck the side of the man's face with his armored hand._

_'__You're weak … pathetic.' Her mother's voice had continued to taunt. 'How could I have raised such an incompetent child? I prayed to the Gods above and below every second that I looked at you that you would have been the one to die within my womb instead of your brother. I felt fight and fire within him. You? You were lifeless, content to just exist. You were a parasite growing within my womb. But Gods damn it all, I tried. But you disappointed me countless times.'_

_"__I must not allow thieves and convicted criminals to walk through my streets on my orders," she had begun. "You have confessed to the crime, and you shall see punishment for such crime … given your history and prior apprehensions concerning thievery, I order punishment as the removal of both hands at the wrist. You will then spend thirty suns and nights in the dungeon at half rations. At which point you are released, you are to receive ten lashings or until you reach unconsciousness." _

_"__No," he had graveled. "Not my hands, Majesty, please!"_

_"__Let's see how well you can provide for your family now. Greed will only get you so far in life, peasant. You wanted them both to live. Instead of being content with one life left, it's very likely both will suffer and die because of your selfishness. Place his markers on his wrist. Release him to the dungeons once you're finished."_

_She had risen from her throne as the room had filled with simultaneous noise of shifting armor and clothing as the people within kneeled to her stance._

_'__That's my girl. His punishment was far to gracious, though. Next time, make the low life's pay with their lives. They obviously don't value them,' her mother would have voiced had she been there._

_"__Darcy, I'm going to retire to my chambers. I wish to be left alone and not bothered." Regina stated as she rose from her throne. _

_"__Of course, My Lady."_

_"__And please see that the family is taken care of. I ask for your discretion with this, Darcy. No one must know. Fabricate what lies you must, but no one is to know, understand?"_

_"__I'll see it done, My Lady._

_She had walked to her chambers in silence. "Have I really become just like my mother?" she had asked herself as she closed the large, heavy doors, once again sealing herself away in the dark confines of her loneliness and despair._

Regina's memory flickered after that to several uncoordinated recollections.

Rushing footsteps and the snapping and crunching of twigs drew her attention away from her inner monologue. The steps, hurried and frantic, neared closer as Emma came into view.

Regina wrenched her head away from Emma's sight as she wiped the tear stains from her face. Her body shook in anger. Why, she didn't know, but it pumped through her being with every heartbeat. Gods, she remembered everything. Every image, every sound, _every second_, from her past, and they often revisited her when she needed to be reminded, as if it was ever needed. It wasn't entities or apparitions that haunted her, no, her past haunted her, and it would forever live with her.

"Regina … Regina! What's wrong! Wha' happened?" Emma called in a panic as she ran to the woman, sword in hand and at the ready. Her eyes scanned the area, but after seeing no initial threat, she looked to Regina and saw a very agitated fallen queen staring at her. "Sorry," Emma apologized hesitantly. Regina sat still and looked away. With no apparent danger, Emma fumbled with sheathing her sword. It would take her some time to get used to the larger weapon. She still preferred her dagger over the clumsy and large sword. "I just … you were screamin'. What was I supposed to do? I thought something was wrong!"

"My apologies," she said as she attempted to restore some of her dignity.

"You needn't be sorry," Emma spoke as she fought the urge to brush a few erratic strands of dark hair from Regina's face. "I was just worried. I stepped away for a minute."

Regina didn't even regard her as she spoke. "No need for your worry. I experience this every day, Miss Swan. Every time I close my eyes. But thank you, for your concern," she stated in a manner that meant the discussion was over, and she stood.

Still kneeling, she looked up at Regina. "You know," Emma began. "If you ever want to talk about it—"

"I won't, now get up. Make yourself useful and get the horses ready. We ride out as soon as possible." She dusted off her jodhpurs and rearranged her heavy wool and fur cloak.

Her screams might have alerted someone or something of their whereabouts. It would be best for them to distant themselves from the vicinity as quickly as permitted.

Tension filled the space between both women as they trekked across the woodlands. Neither uttered a single word as they rode, the methodical motion leaving them in somewhat of a trance.

Emma stared off in the horizon as her mind raced. Her jaw and body were taut as she released heavy breaths full of disgust and irritation. Sharp, unrelenting eyes pierced to the figure several yards in front of her. Since their encounter earlier that morning, Regina seemed more cold and distant than Emma ever recalled. Regina's impassiveness angered Emma to the extent her jaw and fingers ached from their constant flexing. It would _not_ be like this for the foreseeable future. The thought of sidestepping and living in a state of nervous anticipation, unknowing whether some innocent remark could send her friend back into the cold depths of her inner being, frustrated her.

Something had to give.

Knowledge and understanding had to be gained.

"How many people did you kill?" Her voice shattered the stillness of the afternoon as it reached unsuspecting ears. Regina, nor her horse, showed any type of recognition, not even to the edge in her words.

Regina shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance. "Does it matter? Perhaps the more prudent question would be how many lives have _you_, yourself, taken?"

Emma bristled. "You're deflecting. Answer the damn question." Emma saw her shoulders rise and fall.

"Are you asking how many I killed myself, or how many died by my orders?"

Emma huffed. "Is there a difference?"

"I suppose not, no. Death is death. By my hand … a dozen or so. But through orders … hundreds, maybe even a few thousand."

Emma balked at the number. _Why? _"Why?" she voiced.

"Asking me why I did what I did is like asking a vagrant why he or she stole a loaf of bread," she stated with verity.

"Are you saying you were forced into it?" Emma asked, giving an incredulous huff. "Cause how does that work exactly?"

By then, the space between them had diminished to only a few feet separating their gates.

"You knew my mother. Should not that be enough of an answer?"

"You're placing blame on her, when you were fully aware and cable of your actions … of knowing the outcome and the consequences."

"I suppose so, yes. But you do not know the full story. The stories I refused to tell you so many times as a child. My mother conditioned me to be exactly who she wanted me to be, and she did so through the most basic human instinct … fear."

"So this is where you blame your childhood. Once again placing blame on anyone and anything but yourself? Raven's calling, Regina! You weren't the only one who had a fucked up childhood. I lost my family, my best friend in this damned place. I saw humans at their worst, and yet I didn't turn into a murderous—" she was silenced as Regina abruptly turned, Uajo squealing at the sudden change of pace and direction. For a split second, Emma wondered what had caused the rapid shift in the surrounding air. But then she remembered her last words, and the direction they were headed. Emma had gone from one extreme in emotion to another, from anger to guilt to sadness. What she implied was almost unforgivable, at least in her mind, and by the myriad of emotions flashing across Regina's face, hurt and fury being the prominent of those, she knew Regina was about to confirm that.

"_What?! A monster?! _A murderous monster!" she seethed as Uajo fidgeted under her grip.

Emma fought for words to make everything right again, to rescind her previous insinuation, but one thing she understood about words was they often cut and injured more than the sharpest or pointiest of weapons. Their damage might not be seen like those injuries of a weapon, but they were just as crippling, and not often treatable. Wounds left open to fester. "Reg—"

An accusatory finger stopped Emma as Regina unleashed years of unvented fury. "Do not—do not for a second think you and I are too far misplaced, Miss Swan," she began. "I saw your reaction down in the dungeons. I saw the hate and rage within those very eyes that, at one point, were not too different from my own. Do you think me stupid?" Her face was red and a few veins that ran under the skin at her temple and forehead strained against her flesh. Her glare was baleful. "That I would not have known what you were doing when you left? What about the guard? They could not identify him by anything more than a ring on his wretched finger. I even see it building now," she spoke as her eyes searched Emma's face. "A storm forming as we speak."

Emma could feel it. The throbbing in her head that started as a dull ache and now radiated to the bands at her wrist. How Regina could see it was unfathomable, but it never once occurred to her that Regina might see such emotion because she herself had experienced it firsthand. Who better to read such things than someone privy to such occurrences? Emma at least had the decency to turn her head in remorse.

"Like it or not, we are one and the same, Miss Swan. The only difference is how we have coped … managed. You were always far stronger than I. More determined to see the good in people. It is no surprise you have turned into the person you have. But myself? I was weak and dispensable, even as a child. So that is why I am here, and you there. You had the strength, the determination to fight it, and I simply had no desire or strength, and no one to fight for."

To her dismay, her voice began to break. She stopped, turned her head to the side, and took a few calming breaths before she continued, but much more poised this time. "Out of everyone, you were the one person I hoped would not see me as everyone else. I had wished, foolishly, you would have found the good in me, and helped me see it myself. But now I see I must truly be lost. Thank you, Miss Swan, for allowing me to see this so clearly."

They locked their gazes and Emma felt an unseen force slam into her chest, stealing the breath right from her lungs. Regina's eyes reflected the sheer amount of grief and insurmountable pain within her being, her eyes glassy from unspent tears. But the contact was broken as Regina turned and began walking once again, her pace steady. Emma didn't immediately follow.

_Damn her!_ Regina thought as the distance between them grew steadily without her awareness or care. Damn her for making her think she had a chance! Damn her for making her _feel!_ DAMN HER for making her believe there was something still inside her worth saving!

Her eyes burned as salty liquid built inside her eyes and flowed into her nose. She would not cry. She absolutely would _not_ cry. She would not allow Emma to see just how hurtful her words had been. How much weight her words had carried in the first place. How her very words shaped and filled her from the inside out with disgusting hope. Hope that, indeed, she might have been more than what everyone else saw in her.

Regina suffered a constant struggle. A battle fought, with no apparent victors, with who she wanted to be, what her _heart_ wanted her to be, and what actions proved necessary for her survival. Because in truth, most times life did not allow both to occur. Who someone wanted to be not always coincided with what life chose for them. That was just the unfair truth.

What made it all so tragic lay in the simple fact that even monarchs and patriarchs of the _light_ kingdoms killed and used brutality to maintain order. They just utilized methods far more discreetly. All kingdoms ran on two ideologies: fear and respect. Anyone who voiced otherwise were optimistic fools. True, people could love their kings and queens, but they also needed to have fear and respect. Kingdoms had to contain order, and through those methods order was established.

But why was Regina seen in such a drastic and different light? Simple, she killed and gained control openly. No discretion. People saw what consequences might befall them should they deviate from the laws. The methods of punishment ventured on torture, whereas the White or Gray might have used more humane sentencing. But this was just the way of The Black. Cora had made such treatment viable, and witnessed the control it gave her, as opposed to other rulers who dominated with less authority, and less success. So, naturally, her first born heir, her daughter, would be raised and expected to maintain such practices.

Regina did, and was now faced with the repercussions of her actions, actions that would forever taint and mar her soul, a fact which had been thrust into her heart in the most brutal of ways. A spear wielded by the one person who could inflict the most harm.

Emma.


	12. Chapter IX - Darkness is Deceiving (Pt2)

**Chapter IX - Darkness is Deceiving (Part 2)**

Tiny particles of glass sparkled against the sunbathed room as they descended to the ground in a rain-like fashion. The resounding crash still echoed within the large room as the unfortunate glass chalice made contact with the dark stone wall. The force behind the raged throw was astounding. The air in the room changed in an instant—full of tension, and so thick one's lungs screamed at the deprivation. Occupants sat ramrod still in fear one stray movement might instigate an attack. The sweet perfume of burgundy wine, which infiltrated the space, didn't even cause nostrils to flair.

"I nearly gave you my throne!" Her breathing labored from the exertion of hurling glass at the wall, not even hitting her intended target, though it had been mere inches from his head. She continued, "Handed it to you on a crystal platter. Even went as far as to tell you when and how to overtake the guards. When _she _would be vulnerable! And this is how you repay me? By contacting me to inform me just how my plan was _failing_? You incompetent fool! Have you paid naught a single speck of attention these past several _years_? ANSWER ME!"

Lord Tryon recoiled at her tone. "Yes, My Lady, I know the plan well."

She huffed, rolled her eyes, and slammed her palms down on the table in irritation. "If that were indeed true, then you would not have sent for me. Panic would not have been laced within your words. You would have known and seen exactly how my flawless plan was taking shape. You would have seen the cogs falling seamlessly into their place, and you would have laughed and smiled with absolute _glee _upon witnessing it_._"

"My apologies, My Lady."

She waved him off in dismissal as she walked over to the large floor to ceiling window, and peered out. Her long, neatly manicured nails tapped at the windowpane. "My daughter, as worthless of a gorgon as she might be, is still integral to this plan," she spoke as she watched ingrates mill about in the market square. _They are living too well,_ she thought. "She is leading her right where we want them."

She turned back to Lord Tyron and the few in his council, and walked back to the elongated table to take her seat at the head. Her steps graceful as her black and maroon dress flowed with her movements. She sat and snapped her fingers for a new glass and wine. "Pity, I could have seen having more use with her. That insufferable child! She might not have had the intellect to rule a kingdom, but she had a sickening kindness that allowed her power over others … something I didn't have. Shame I didn't notice it before. So many could have fallen under her influence. Bend to her every will and then snap their neck once their usefulness came to an end. All the power she could have had…that _I_ could have had…and yet she pissed it away. This grand, powerful gift I bestowed upon her. A throne, a kingdom…_power,_ and she snubbed it away."

Silence once again overcame the room. No one dared speak. Except Lord Tyron, that is. "She was ungrateful, My Lady."

Cora's gaze met his swiftly and sought to melt the flesh away. "Of course she was! Don't insult me with something as trivial and known as such. Get him out of my sight," she called to no one in particular. "We have them right where we want them. The path has been taken. All that's left is to wait. And I'll be at the other side to greet them."

"What about the threats beyond the boundary?" another man spoke. He was seated next to Cora, his dress different from her own. Much lighter in color. "Will they not be a distraction?"

"I know our daughter well," she said to him. "She will let nothing get in the way of her redemption. That's what she desires, you see. Atonement for her crimes. She wishes for all the people in the realms to see her for who she really is. For her truest love to see her for who she is. And do you know what? They will. They all will see who she is. I will show them what a monster I bore. And her love? Well, what's love without agonizing heartbreak, or so I'm told. I wouldn't know much concerning that. Love showcases your weak points. Makes you vulnerable. What do you think would have happened should I have loved our daughter? She would have been my weakness. Something for someone else to use as leverage against me. I couldn't have that. And now look where we are. I have the most power yet, and my own flesh and blood has helped me receive it, and before too long, she, along with the demigod, will grant me the most power of all. No one will dare oppress me again."

* * *

The dark forest held true to its name. It played on one's fears, and now proved no different. There was no moon, no stars, not a ray of light seen. The walk labored as each and every step resulted in the eerie awareness that unseen apparitions grasped for one's very being. The sound of snagging and scrapping cloth deafened the ears. They were but merely branches, thorns, and vines, but again, it was a very effective mind trick.

The nocturnal woodland beasts sounded off as part of nature's elaborate symphony. Each step calculated, and the women's horses stepped cautiously with their ears up and their eyes wide and bright, waiting to take flight at the tiniest sound of potential threats.

The confrontation that taken placed early that morning had certainly not been forgotten, but the tension in the air lessened at each minute that went by. The atmosphere surrounding them no longer held its uncomfortable silence, but merely the silence of two people trying to work out their emotions; to gain their bearings and reign in the rawness they both felt. In truth, Emma _never_, not once, thought of Regina as a monster, or anything relating to that fact, and deep down Regina knew this. The conclusion of Emma's statement was left unfinished for a reason. Monster, or any other related words were the farthest things from her mind. But Regina's insecurities showed themselves more now than ever. Why? Because she was afraid the one person who meant the most to her, regardless of the reassurances Emma often spoke, would come to realize Regina was indeed the Evil Queen everyone spoke of. She was the monster everyone feared.

For both women, their years of unspent anger, hurt, pain, and rage had been unleashed on the only other person around—each other. Those contained emotions needed release, and they needed a target. And that morning, they each found their unfortunate goal.

But now, the silence was deafening to both women, and each, unaware to the other, was itching to start the way to apologies and forgiveness. Because they were all each other had, and no petty arguments, confrontation s, or insecurities would come in the way of them.

Emma was about to speak up, but something bright and mysterious begged her attention in her peripheral. It was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before. It was mesmerizing—the way it moved, so fluid and intoxicating. She halted her horse and stood transfixed as the atmosphere seemed to gain life around them. Colors of blue, green, yellow, and white danced to the hypnotic sounds of nightlife. Without thought, Emma dismounted and walked toward the blanket of lights.

But not before a hand gripped her own softly, stilling her movements. She felt Regina press into her back as she whispered into her ear. "It's beautiful, is it not?" Her breath warm and pleasant against Emma's wind burnt ear. She shivered at the action and felt strong hands steady her, pulling her closer against the warmth of her body.

"What is it?" Emma whispered. Her intense gaze focused on the sheet of lights as they danced around the forest growth.

Regina swallowed and pressed her lips to the younger woman's ear, her own gaze transfixed by the light spectacle before them. "They're spirits of the Black … of the deceased. If you believe in such things, I suppose. I've heard about this, but never have I witnessed it firsthand. I believed it to be a myth, because why would something so pure and beautiful take shape here … not only in the dark forest, but in this dark realm."

"Why are they here?"

"Where else would they go? It's their opportunity to be free. They're safe here … undetectable."

Emma felt Regina shift behind her. She waited, expecting Regina to say more, but when nothing else came, she turned her head and saw Regina staring out into the distance, spellbound.

Regina then spoke. "Let us stop for the night and make camp on up the way there? We are at a suitable resting point."

"Yeah, all right. You know best." Emma said. Her eyes never once tearing from the scene set before her. Tears pooled within her eyes as she looked onto the lights dancing before her.

Regina turned to leave, but noticed the lack of presence behind her. She saw Emma unmoving, unspent tears in her eyes. Regina approached her quietly and put a hand to her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Don't mourn for them, Emma," she whispered. "They are far better off. You know just how vicious this reality is."

They arrived at a suitable location about a third of a league away. With haste, Emma began the makings of a fire, gathering brush, kindling, logs, branches, and rocks. Regina, in the mean time, settled the horses, rationed out their water, and made something which resembled a two-sided tent. It wasn't much, but at least it would provide some protection from wind or rain that might greet them during the night.

The conversation between both women had been the first of the day, at least, since their spat in the late morning hours. It was now approaching midnight. They were exhausted, cold, saddle-sore, and hungry. Not to mention the smell of rain infiltrated the surrounding air. Rain would certainly come tonight if the steady zephyr indicated anything, and it would be a cold, miserable precipitation.

Emma didn't bother trying to hunt. Not only the hour, but the short duration of their stay meant any energy spent on hunting would prove futile. Instead, she rummaged through her saddlebag and found two pressed oatspice bars. She cringed as she held the matter in her hand. It had the texture and weight of tree bark and was confident it would taste as such.

As she walked back to the small fire, she noticed Regina had already taken a seat next to the growing flames. Emma's heart warmed, a smile coming to her face when she saw she had already cleared a place for her. Guilt soon became an overwhelming emotion.

"Regina?" she began.

When mahogany eyes lifted to meet her own in acknowledgment, she fidgeted on spot, turning the wrapped food in her hands. "Regina, I—I'm sorry for what I said." She knew it wasn't enough. There would be no excuse for what she had said, but for now, she had to try to make things right. "I was just frustrated and … you are _not_ what they speak of," she declared. She stepped forward and offered the stale bar to her companion before taking a seat to face her. "Even now, after all these years … after all of our transgressions, I still see _you_, and the good that you have inside of you."

Regina just sat, unmoving. Watching, staring with unshed tears in her eyes. And Emma wanted nothing more than to ease her sorrows.

"There's darkness in us all. We all have inner demons we struggle with, and some fight them better than others. I learned that in the Gray. I guess part of me knew that in the Black, as well. It was not my place to judge you, Regina. Gods above know it wasn't, and for that I'm … for that, I'm sorry. You spent the better part of eight years suffering for your actions and decisions, and those markings upon your flesh are even more evidence of that fact, and for me to stand in front of you, spitting all that against you yet again. I just wanted to know … to understand what happened to you. What happened to the young girl I grew to love with all of my being? What made her into the … _person_ everyone accuses her of being? Because I just don't see how it happened. I don't see that in you."

Stillness swept in around them as Regina's gaze met the dancing flames. It was quiet save the occasional hoot of an owl, or nightly calls of the insects. With the crackling fire and ambient noise of the night, any other time Emma would have found it peaceful. A lullaby she often fell slumber to. The fire even cast a beautiful hue upon their skin, giving it color and warmth on this dark, damp, and cold night.

"I grew up, Emma." Her voice quiet as she torn her gaze away from the alluring blaze and found Emma's. "I grew up far too quickly, and perhaps, one of these days I will share more with you, but as of right now, you are not ready to hear what I have to tell you."

Nothing was said, just the faint motion of a nod. "Five … to answer your question. I've killed five people, not including the guard. Two innocent: a mother and child. They had been masked. Used as decoys … and I put an arrow through them. I still remember their faces, the sword still within their grasp."

"Their deaths … is that why—"

"No, my anger overtook me when Ma and Danny died. Never before. It's strange though … how it's always felt a part of me. Just never to this extent. It's like I'm not even in control anymore. I'm something else. Something that I never wanted to be."

Emma stated solemnly, tossing a few sticks into the blaze. Sparks and embers decorated the air around them as the flames flickered in agitation. Despite the fire, its warmth failed to keep the night's chill from burrowing down to their bones. They huddled close together, each seeking the warmth emitted from the other. In their innocent years, such an action wouldn't have leant thought; now, however, it told a completely different story. They had grown older … wiser. Both in years and experiences, and each of those held a huge impact on their lives. They both donned scars down to the very marrow of their bones.

Right now, their innocent exchange exposed themselves for who they were: two women who, despite their rough and cold exteriors, were still above all human. Two humans who still held a primitive need of companionship and acceptance.

This intimate of a display would never be tolerated with anyone else, but it was allowed here because both women not only understood the other when she was at her worst, but also when she was at her best.

"It seems as if we still have much in common then," Regina whispered as her eyes remained fitted on the flitting flames. "Tell me," she began once again. "Have you never questioned your abilities? Why you are able to do things no other person can? Why you hurt the way in which you hurt?" Regina asked. Her eyes inquiring as curiosity built about the subject at hand. She had her own ideas, but wanted Emma to voice her own facts.

The change of subject brought great relief, and Emma took the bait and ran with it; thankful for a reprieve on such a heavy topic. "Not really. I just always thought it to be a gift … or a curse from the Gods. A way of survival for me," she said.

Regina nodded, smiling softly. "A great gift."

"I don't believe it to be a gift anymore. Not for a long time. It's made me into this … this _thing _I don't even recognize. I can't stand the person I've become. Full of loss, anger … pain. It never leaves, just builds. Stews within me. Waiting for me to succumb to my weakness."

Regina scooted closer to Emma, their shoulders brushing as she took cool hands within her own. "You are too critical of yourself, Emma, for I do not see what you speak of. All I see is a young woman who has struggled, yet rose from the depths. Fight in her eyes, ready to take on all who doubt her. I see _you_. A strong woman, a strong person."

Emma looked down at their interwoven fingers. She closed her eyes, relishing the minute contact just before inhaling sharply as cool fingers graced her cheek. The fingers stayed idle for a few seconds as they whispered across her sensitive flesh with tenderness and care.

Warmth spread through Emma's body, a nice compliment to the fire that set ablaze feet from them. But the cold was the last thought on her mind. Instead, she squeezed the other hand within hers and felt a shiver race up her spine as she brought said hand up to her mouth and placed the lightest of kisses against the older woman's knuckles.

Oh, how she had missed this. The thought, the remembrance of Regina's caring touch had remained with her all these years. Years of aching for her closeness. It had been a void no other living person could have filled. Her mother and brother had been the affectionate type. But Regina had been different. Her carefully constructed walls had only been allowed to crumble around the younger woman. Her exterior may have been cold, but Emma had never failed to see the love, the care hidden within her dark crimson eyes and expressed with the slightest of touches. Granted, it had never been anything romantic or sexual at the time. No, those feelings developed later, at least for Emma.

Now, on the cusp of their transformation, Emma found it overwhelming. As she felt the woman's touch she had desired for so long grace her skin, she decided she wished to drown in the sensation. Content to die within her embrace. A strangled, uncontrolled sob left her throat. Perhaps it would prove to be too much.

Regina, on the other hand, was struggling. Struggling to fight a long, drawn out, and tiresome battle; a war in which she would undoubtedly lose. She fought hard to concentrate solely on the beautiful woman trembling within her grasp. The same woman who had visited her dreams and brought her from the darkness of her own mind. The same woman she believed gone forever, only to occupy said dreams until death took that from her as well. But her mind could only forget her trespasses for so long. They were too great to be ignored. Especially now, when she didn't even deserve the affection Emma willingly gave. But she wanted it. Oh, how she wanted it. But as with everything in her life thus far, it too would be stripped from her. When all truths were finally spoken.

At that moment, the single—life changing moment chose that instant to make her remember. Forcing her to recall her crimes and misgivings. She tried in vain to chase it away, but it was determined.

_"__You will kill them yourself or they will be hunted down like the animals they are! Butchered! The lot of them! Mother and children! Is that what you desire?" Her mother had screamed. _

She blinked away the memory and moved her other hand to cup Emma's cheek, using the slightest of pressure to urge her closer. _It's done. It's the past. _ She told herself repeatedly. _I just want to feel again. To love again. Please, don't take that away from me._ She pleaded within her mind, hoping and praying the rest of her memory didn't play out. But she had never been that fortunate.

She felt Emma's fingers ghost over her cheek before they made a trail down her neck, cupping it and running her fingers through the fine hairs there. A fluttering erupted in her belly and she was certain mythical dragons had made their home within her and were now anxiously awaiting their escape. The feeling was uncomfortable yet embraced with the fullest of passion.

Blindly, her hands reached for Emma's thighs and pulled the young woman against her, into her lap. A move of comfort—reassurance, and certainly something else. She closed her eyes tightly as a gasp, not of her own shattered what little distance remained between them.

Regina's memory resurfaced.

_"__Or kill them yourself, and show them mercy? It's all up to you, child." Cora had regarded her daughter with pure malice, her gaze harsh and penetrating. Cutting the very flesh from her body. Regina had felt warm liquid spilling from a wound her mother had no doubt opened._

The heat of their bodies warmed Regina with ferocity as the hair's breadth between them grew shorter. Her lips first grazed Emma's brow, before leaving the faintest of kisses against her forehead. A moment's pause gave way to a series of light, chaste kisses against her cheeks, nose, eyes, and finally, upon her lips for the first time. It was nothing extravagant, but it was full of hope, promises, understanding, and, in a way, love. Because it was more than both had ever expected, and exceeded all expectations.

_"__I'll do it, Mother." Young Regina had spoken. Her chest had heaved as she sobbed, tears streamed down her face. She couldn't even wipe them away for the two guards restraining her. "Now clean up. You look pathetic."_

Regina pulled back when she felt moisture against her lips. Emma was crying.

"Emma?" she asked. Her voice filled with concern as she pulled away, burgundy eyes seeking out jade irises. At that moment, Regina saw every hardship the young woman encased in her arms experienced. It all was carved into her very features: her eyes, the hard lines across her face, the few small scars and blemishes adorning her pale skin. It was all there. A map indicating all the places and trials she endured. It was beautiful yet heartbreaking; beautiful because she had survived, yet heartbreaking because she never should have been faced with such tribulations.

It destroyed her. Knowing she, just for being the daughter of the Queen, was the cause of such pain. Yet she still desired everything—anything Emma was willing to give.

Regina's eyes fluttered closed as she felt a finger and thumb trace her lips. She knew the younger woman could see the moisture brimming within her own eyes as well.

Emma's lip trembled as her gaze shifted from Regina's eyes to her lips. "I missed you."

And that was all it took. Regina released her own strangled sob into the still air of night. The years of suppressed emotions and unheard pleas finally surfaced.

Before she could comprehend much more, eager, yet timorous lips met hers once more. They melted into each other as they kissed softly, tenderly, causing a shudder to pass over their bodies in unison. The night might have been cool, but their beings were full of warmth, contrary to the gooseflesh erupting across their skin. _So this is what it feels like … to be wanted_, she thought to herself.

They kissed slowly, unhurried in their touches. Each terrified this might be yet another dream. An illusion. Afraid in one instant, the other's touch may go unfelt or their own hand drift through air, nothing solid or soft to brush their fingers against. Eyes remained closed for fear of exposing too much. More than what was already exposed. Yet it permitted them a chance to savor this moment between them.

Regina gave it no more thought as she offered herself up, allowing the sensations to sweep her away. Senses ignited by the mere touch, taste, scent, and feel of the woman she adored.

Regina pulled away first, brushing strands of hair from Emma's eyes. She smiled before placing a tender kiss upon her neck, whispering, "And I you."


	13. Chapter X - III Sides to Every Story

**AN: As always, thanks so much for the wonderful reviews and alerts! It's nice to know others are enjoying this story! But just some reassurance: yes, our ladies are going to be put through the wringer. Things will get worse before they get better. But my stories always have a happy ending. Emma and Regina will get their happy ending, have no fear! Now ... onward! :)  
**

* * *

**Chapter X - III Sides to Every Story**

Frenzied footsteps echoed through the deserted corridor as the owner reached his destination and barreled through the closed door, slamming it shut on his way to Master Anders. Prying ears had heard everything Cora spoke. Now it was his duty to inform Anders of the plot. By the Gods! What were they to do? What did this mean? Too many questions, and it was promised there would be even fewer, if any, answers.

"Emma! She's in trouble," he began; winded and anxious. His chest heaved as he watched Anders process the words. "Her and the Queen."

He turned from his spot at a small table, dropped his quill, and rose quickly, the chair grinding against the stone floor. "What? Speak!" he demanded.

"I—I saw her … Cora. She's alive … she was speaking with Lord Tyron."

"Impossible. Cora's long dead. Bless the nineteen for that!"

"I _saw_ her. Believe me, there was no mistaking who she was."

Cora had been one of the people that, even if one had never seen her before, they knew instantly who they were looking at. Her distinctive dress, mannerisms, appearance, and her aura, all alluded to someone powerful. Someone worthy of fear. There was no one else within the three like her, and many hoped—prayed, there never would be.

Anders approached him with wary eyes. He was searching for truth, because even Ryker, never the dishonest one, couldn't have seen Cora. She had been sent to the void long ago. Their worlds since free of her influence and power. But the young lad's trembling body, heaving chest, and frantic eyes spoke volumes. This changed everything. "Where? What was said?"

"Something about Regina leading Emma where they wanted her."

Anders recoiled, a preverbal slap to the face. "She's to betray her," he spoke slowly, allowing the words and meaning behind them to register.

"No—no, I don't believe so," Ryker was quick to interject. "They're using Regina, as well. Neither woman knows what they're headed into."

"Tell me exactly what ya heard, and who all ya saw."

"There was Cora, Lord Tyron, the Governor, and a man…I couldn't see his face, but he appeared tall, a—and thin. He wore a beige robe."

No, it couldn't be. It was preposterous. Only people of the White wore undyed clothing. And, believing a member of the White held council with Cora, well, that did not settle well. Something was off, something big. "No name?" he asked and Ryker shook his head. "All righ', keep watch of 'em. _All_ of 'em. The more we know, the better we can act."

"What do you think this is?"

"Don't know, but I'll speak with Kael. Inform him of all this. He might have an idea where to go from here. Oh, an' find me this … Darcy you've spoken of. He might be of use to us." He went to leave, brushing past Ryker in the process.

"Wait!" the young man called out after him. "What about Emma? We must warn them."

"We must not act hastily, not yet. Lemme speak to Kael before anythin' is done."

"But—"

"_Promise _me you will remain within these walls, and make no attempts to contact them. _Promise me!" _His voice harsh as he grabbed Ryker by his collar.

The young man offered a quick nod.

"There is much at stake here, Mister Tibbins. We don't need another soul out in that wasteland."

* * *

They had been traveling for about two weeks. After the seventh day, the boundary had finally been passed, and their travel now continued during the day as they slept and rested in the evening and night hours. It was slow going, especially when such means of travel would generally consist of five to fifteen minute walks or immediate arrival if you had the gift of free transfer like Emma. But Regina reiterated such time for travel was necessary and that the portals should remain stable for their return. In her theory, the portals could remain stoic for many, many months, but that was a risk no one was likely or willing to take.

It had rained for a week straight. Unrelenting. Soaking. The most miserable of days in existence if one asked either woman. The heavens had opened up, unleashing its fury upon them, refusing to close its gates.

The boundary had been passed not but seven days ago, and today marked their second week of the journey to the Gray.

After a week of trudging through cold slop, and the weight of their soaked clothes, exhaustion overtook them. No relief could be obtained. No end in sight. Just an abysmal existence in the pit of decaying and waterlogged darkness, and they fought not to drown in it.

Finally, on the fourteenth day, three days of relief from the rain, and seven days since passing the boundary, they had reached the southern edge of the dark forest. The weather gave way to clear blue skies and warm refreshing air. The surrounding trees breathed and exhaled the purest of air.

Emma, enjoying the occasional rays of sunlight on her face, leaned her head back and closed her eyes, content to let Trysu take the lead. It was blissful as the hearty heat of light splashed upon her cool flesh, thawing it from the weeks of cold. The bright light cast a pinkish hue to her closed eyelids. She sighed in contentment as she stretched the hard knots from her sore body, hands grasping for the canopy of evergreen leaves above, a strained grunt escaping her lungs. Perhaps this was the light.

"You may want to mind your head, dear."

"Wha—" Emma started. That was, at least until, a low branch, full and thick with leaves, caught her right square in the face. The next scene played out quite hilariously as Emma's arms flailed helplessly in the air knocking her out of balance. The force of the impact and size of the branch shot her backward and soon she was ungracefully falling from the horse ass backward as several undignified curse words spilt from her eager lips.

She landed hard with a thud, all air swooshing out of her lungs at once. She lay motionless for several beats, trying to quell the burn in her lungs and the sting to her body. The canopy of trees above spun with sickening speed as she slammed her eyes shut, waiting for the nausea to ebb away. Thank the nineteen she had fallen from her fair share of trees. After so many broken bones, one learned not to tense up during a fall.

A quick intake of air invigorated her lungs and helped steady her fading vision. But no longer than she was about to sit up, a dark shadow loomed over her disoriented body. She gazed up, head teetering as she came face-to-face with a large muzzle. Trysu nudged the side of her face, spreading wet matter against her cheek and face, before moving down to the satchel at her hip, where she just happened to keep sliced, browning apples.

She sputtered while shooing him away, sat up, and finally took in her bearings. A melodious laugh filtered through the air, seizing her heart and causing the tiniest of smiles. She laughed in return as she clutched at the dull pain in her chest.

"Gods damn it all, Regina!" Emma rose from the ground and rested her weight on her thighs, slouching over as her hands gripped her breeches. The sharp movements of her chest, back, and shoulders clear indication she was still laughing. "Why didn't you warn me sooner?!"

"And miss witnessing that? Oh, I think not, dear. That was simply pricele—" Emma rushed over to her and gripped her leg and waist, effectively lifting her from the horse. "MISS SWAN! Unhand me at once!"

"Oh no, Majesty! You're comin' down here with me."

She picked her up and, thanks to the angle and extra weight, it sent both women tumbling down to the soft ground below.

Today was a good day. A great day. The sun was high and bright. The air was warm, invigorating. The birds around sang proudly, enlivening the heart and making it light. The ground and grasses beneath them felt cool against their covered flesh, and Gods was it welcoming. For the first time in many, many days, months, or possibly years, soft laughter erupted from their chests.

It shouldn't have been this way, though. With the great threat looming over the realms leagues and leagues away, that thought should have been at the forefront of their minds, and it never ventured too far. But at times like this, when their souls were lighter than they had been for most of their lives, and when the evidence of the threat no longer existed, no longer seen; it was too easy to fall into the illusion. The illusion they were alone—liberated. Free to live. Free to be happy. And free to prosper in any way they saw fit. They were free to just _be_, and that in itself was intoxicating.

"I swear you and that damn horse are going to be the death of me. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you two are conspiring against me."

"Oh, is that so? Well, what do you think, Trysu? Has our cover been severed? Have we been discovered?" she said. Laughter filtered through the trees, but she stopped as soon as she saw Emma's gaze flitting across her face. Rough fingers soon followed, whispering against her cheek. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just … you look so much better. Healthier," she spoke as she brushed her thumb against Regina's cheek, outlining the bone that, not but weeks ago, had been prominent against her thin and emaciated flesh. The vibrant colors of her eyes, hair, and skin had all returned, and her figure was regaining its beautiful curves.

Emma didn't quite understand it. Perhaps the weight and burden placed upon her in that cell had all but slowly eaten her away. With no hope, came no desire to live. She had just been wasting away, dying slowly. Even out here, despite the strenuous environment and exhaustion, hope remained. _Hope_. Something she presumed the older woman hadn't felt in so long. But here Regina was, as beautiful and vibrant as Emma remembered, yet she knew, if she could see herself, she would be worn down, the look of fatigue tainting her features. Dark circles around and under her eyes. Chapped lips and flesh all red and angry, most from numerous cuts, bruises, scrapes, and abrasions. Next to Regina, she still looked so small. Insignificant. And that was something she knew Regina would never want. She had always strived on the fact that Emma made her feel normal. That they were equals, and these past few days had only proven that point. They respected each other, and shared a bond, a love, that no one else would ever be granted.

Regina regarded her with pure adoration, her eyes open and engaging. "I _feel_ better. The best I have in years, I believe."

"Good, because you deserve it."

Regina's eyes lost their luster in the flick of a flame. They turned cold, indifferent—harsh. "Do I?"

"Don't," Emma spoke. Her tone markedly serious. "We should keep moving. We're losing daylight."

She went to stand and heard twigs snap in the cover of the forest shadows. "D'ya hear that?" Her trained ears strained to pickup any movement. Nothing. Nothing but the chirping of birds, then she heard it again. She looked to Regina who wore a cautious expression. Trysu and Uajo stood stock still, their eyes wide, ears and tails up, ready to bolt.

The sounds drew near. Heavy steps in the brush beneath its feet. Whatever it was, it was big. A deep, low growl penetrated the air around them, the trees absorbing the noise. The peculiar sound, unlike anything either woman heard before, grew into something wild, untamed; a cross between the sound of a large cat's snarl and the cry of a red tail hawk. It prickled the hairs on the back of one's neck and caused the pit of one's belly to bottom out.

It sounded off again, but this time the location of the scream had jumped to their other side. Emma felt pressure at her upper arm, and realized Regina was squeezing it, her knuckles white from the grasp. She followed Regina's haunting gaze, and saw the shape of something tucking itself into the shadows of the trees. Her heart, which beat ferociously against her breast, all but stopped on sight.

"It's a raven cat," Regina whispered. Her voice trembled in fear as the great black cat with golden eyes, large fangs, and sharp claws stalked them in the dimness of the forest.

In the flick of a flame, a large black cat leaped from its cover, and pounced on one of the horses, who had been fleeing. Regina screamed as the large black cat took down her gray gelding, fatality wounding it. The cat turned, and by the time Emma had unsheathed her sword, it was upon them, claws extending, ready to strike.

Emma shoved an unarmed Regina to the side, her bow and arrow still on her fallen horse. With her free hand, Emma unclasped her heavy wool cloak, and readied herself for the attack. The menacing predator circled her as it sized her up.

Finding a weakness, it struck first, barely missing Emma's stomach. Her swing was delayed and allowed another strike not even a second later.

The sword was heavy and slow, especially when faced with such a lithe and quick predator. She nicked it once on its nose but immediately felt a sharp pain in her leg. It buckled underneath her, and she collapsed to the ground in staggering agony. She watched with fading vision as the cat approached her yet again and delivered another blow, this time, to her shoulder, nearly missing her neck and had her hand in its mouth.

Was this her fate? To die by the clutches of this beast, in this undiscovered land? To leave Regina behind? _Regina_. She couldn't even focus to find Regina. To tell her to run, to flee—escape while she could. Then, her lungs ignited in a sharp burn as a heavy weight suffocated her and warmth coated a section of her face. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. Not connectedly, at least, until the excruciating pain abated. She wanted to scream, to let it out, hoping the pain would follow, but her compressed lungs refuted her wishes.

A bright light erupted within her sight as her ears rang out. Silent and unseeing—her body unmoving. This was it. She had passed the threshold of reality and now stood at the gates of eternity. The Shining. That's what this had to be. The Gods awaited her, and perhaps, just maybe, she would find her family on the other side and, in the distant future, be united with Regina again. A bittersweet reunion it would be.

But not even a second later, she heard a muffled scream in the distance, and soon, a plea. _Emma. _Someone called. It was a woman. "Emma." It was clearer this time.

The weight upon her chest eased away and she inhaled sharply, taking in all the air her deprived lungs could hold. She looked up, and saw Regina, worry etched into her face and features. She went to sit up, but a firm hand to her shoulder kept her down.

Wide and panicked scarlet eyes scanned her body in frenzy for injuries. "Be still," she said. Her voice breaking.

Emma obeyed. The pain flowing through her body and exiting at various points made it difficult for her not to completely lose grip on reality. It would be too easy for her to close her eyes and drift into a sleep where the sting did not follow. It would take her to place she only caught a small glimpse of. Instead, she kept her mind occupied with thoughts and questions, all centered on their current predicament.

She looked at Regina, groggy and nauseated while clutching at her injured hand. "The … the cat?" A sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach with the thought of the beast still stalking them, but Regina quickly quelled her fears.

At least for the moment.

"Dead. Arrow to the head." She tore sections of her blouse away, tearing them into uneven yet long swatches to lay against the angry marks left by the creature. She got to her leg and paused. If possible, she paled further, her voice carrying a sickening weight to it. "Another inch and it would have severed your femoral artery."

She tensed as the cloth contacted her raw skin. "Guess I was lucky, uh?" she spoke, trying to lighten the portentous air around them. Her body screamed, and when Regina remained quiet, diligently tending to her wounds, she spoke again. "How bad is it?" But she knew. The throb that lanced through her being told her everything she needed to know and, perhaps, some in which she didn't. "Regina, how bad?" she pressed.

Regina swallowed, taking a deep breath to steady herself as her heart pounded away within her chest. "Your leg injury is the most debilitating. Your shoulder and hand … they are minor, but … I know naught if you can walk."

Emma started to sit up. "Help me?"

"Where's Trysu?" she asked as they finally managed to get her in a sitting position. She saw Uajo, lying lifeless, but her horse was nowhere to be found. She set her jaw in anger and defeat. "He'll come back," she stated confidently. He had to, because they couldn't make this journey without him.

"He is not a dog, Emma," Regina said gently. No meanness to her words. "We have lost him."

"Help me brace and wrap it. Night's comin' and we can't stay here."

"Where will we go? We have no supplies, no horses, no food. You are injured. We have _nothing!_"

"We'll take what supplies we can carry. Won't be much, but it will get us through the night. Come tomorrow, we'll think of something, all right?"

Regina conceded and helped Emma to her feet. She found her a sturdy stick to help her walk. They braced it and wrapped it as best they could.

A cold sweat gathered on her pasty skin. They wouldn't make it far, but anywhere seemed better than where they stood. The attack and dead carcasses would surely attract more predators, and _that_ was the last thing they needed.

They walked for less than a league before a crippling odor caused Emma's already nauseated stomach to roil further.

"Ugh?! What's that stench?! It's foul!" she spoke breathlessly as she doubled over, retching.

"That, Emma, is death," she stated as she glanced at the area around them alert. "Stay close, something is not right."

At her words, Emma saw Regina withdraw her bow and arrow, and she drew her dagger out slowly. They were vulnerable. An injured Emma grasping Regina just to hobble foot by foot, her dagger loosely carried in her good hand. She figured she could at least gouge something's eyes out if it came down to it. By them some time to finish it off. But, she prayed it wouldn't come to that.

"What is that?" Emma asked as her stomach continued to turn unpleasantly. The taste of bile was starting to creep up her throat, and the gag inducing smell penetrated her nostril membrane causing the taste of rancid flesh to coat her tongue. She gagged once and grabbed an old rag from her pocket and quickly placed it over her mouth and nose. Even the thin fabric folded over couldn't dispel the putrid stench.

"Not what, but whom." Regina stated as she examined the dead being.

"What? Tha—that's a person?" Emma asked for clarification. Surely a person … a human couldn't have wondered out this far. This was leagues and leagues away from both The Black and The Gray.

"Indeed, from the markings I would say this being was from The Black. Look at his hands."

Regina pointed to his palm, and sure enough, even where the skin had shrunk, a thick piece of metal rod and two solid plates were resting along with him.

"How did he end up here then? These lands remain unknown—unspoken to all."

"Perhaps it was found by accident," she reasons. "Someone flees the grounds of Black, evades the watch guards, and the boundary does not stop them. As you now know by our account, one can travel these lands without issue. It just depends on several factors: food, water, and predators. All of which we have now encountered here, have we not."

"Are you saying this person was attacked by something?"

"Not something, but someone," Regina stated cautiously. "These attack marks were not made by a beast. The marks are far too clean—spaced. Albeit, not the cleanest I've seen, but certainly made by a rudimentary blade or tool. What I'm saying is we need to be careful. Keep extra vigilant. We may not be the only beings traveling these lands. If one person escaped the Realm of Black, it is unclear who all might have escaped its darkness. I fear there is more to all this than meets the eye."

"Whaddya mean?"

Regina turned to her, her gaze settled on heavy, glassy emerald eyes. "Stories are difficult to interrupt, Emma. There are always three separate paths to its conclusion: your story, their story, and the truth. We've taken the path of their tale, now let us take ours and see if it leads us to the truth."


	14. Chapter XI - Understandings

**Chapter XI - Understandings**

At fewer than three leagues, Emma collapsed, sending her to the soft cushioning of the forest duff. Regina spotted a den tree a few yards from them and dragged Emma the remaining distance before situating her inside the small cleaned out hollow.

Regina looked at her with absolute anguish; her trembling hands hovered in the air. She wanted to touch, to give any type of comfort she could provide, but everywhere her gaze landed, bloody, tattered, or bruised skin appeared. She clenched her outstretched hand and finally cradled her neck.

Emma looked at her and smiled reassuringly as she placed her good hand over Regina's. "Hey, it's gonna be all right, y'know. Just a setback is all."

"I would hardly deem this a setback, Emma. We have no horses, no supplies … you can barely stand, let alone walk."

She stayed quiet for a long while as she absentmindedly toyed with the tattered fabric of Emma's cloak, thinking. Night had yet to fall, so her gaze wandered about the surrounding woods. At least the woodland's previous eeriness had dissipated. No more were the lifeless trees overtaken with rot or disease and the wildlife mostly hidden. Here, on the southern edge of the dark forest, life thrived, and it was beautiful.

"You healed me," Regina began as she studied her own scarred hands, reliving the memory of the day Emma saved her. "Can you not heal yourself?"

"I didn't _heal_ you. I can't mend wounds. I can only soothe … ease nerves. My energy doesn't allow for the physical repair, only emotional—mental. I haven't even felt an energy source out here. These bands may be as useless as a canteen with no water."

"These need to be cleaned. I will go gather supplies for the night. We should be fairly safe here."

"I'm just glad the weathers warmed up. I didn't know how much more I could take of the cold and damp."

"Well, I will get a fire started and then we can go through our supplies. But let us get you tended to first."

Eyes followed the ever growing shadows as the sun steadily retreated behind the horizon. She had already counted the number of bristle tail squirrels, the different songs of the winter birds, and even sang an old poem her mother used to recite to her when she was ill. She found it comforting, and it passed the time as she waited for Regina's return. It at least kept her mind off the constant throbbing of her limbs. What she wouldn't do for a flagon of wine, or better yet, a warm kettle of her own mulled wine. It warmed her spirit, calmed her mind and, best of all, dulled the pain. It really was the "Gods' Drink".

But the more she yearned for the red drink, the more painfully aware she became of the fact they had nothing to quench their thirst. The taste of blood still lingered over her tongue and she desperately wished to be rid of it.

She heard the snap of twigs and the crush of leaves. Her instincts screamed fear as her heartbeat doubled in speed. It was fight or flight, and as of the moment, she could do neither. But before her mind got too carried away, she saw the edge of a dark moss green cloak. Regina rounded the tree with her leather pouch at her hip and arms full of small broken logs and branches. She bent over not far in front of Emma and deposited her stash of wood before kneeling at her injured leg. She pulled various leaves, herbs, and salvaged vials of salves and oils from her purse.

She helped Emma out of her breeches, and lifted the fabric of her braies to expose the worst of the gashes. Two desperately needed sutures to keep infection at bay. The rest could be managed through basic hygiene and cleansing of the wounds. But in this ruthless environment, those were laughable needs.

Regardless, Regina threaded her bone needle with what silk she had.

"Thank you … for saving me," Emma spoke as she met Regina's grief stricken gaze. She lifted her hand and cupped her cheek, trying to smooth away the worry lines that seemed to have appeared within the last few hours. She tried to manage a smile, but after a painful snag, her face contorted with the sting.

"You need not thank me, Emma. As many times as you have been the savior … well, my time came today. I would not have left you. Not again."

"I'm sorry 'bout Uajo."

Regina did not reply. Her face remained neutral, hard at the edges as her hands continued their work. "I've stripped lives from people. From families," she responded, voice tight—unforgiving. "What is a horse compared to that atrocity. Besides, we knew the risks before stepping outside the gates. We also understood what would have become of us had we not left. There was no option, Emma. We are at the land's mercy here. We did what we had to do to ensure life … for us and everyone else. To guarantee survival."

Emma nodded and seemed to consider the statement. Life, living, and surviving. Interchangeable terms too many, yet worlds apart. "Y'know, people often believe livin' is the same as survivin'. You're alive either way, so what's the difference. They talk all the time 'bout doin' things to live—survive. But in my experience, they're nowhere close to the same. No … you see, I've spent my whole life surviving, and I can tell you they aren't the same. Not anywhere close. I've seen a glimpse of living—a glimpse, and I sure as the void would prefer that over the other."

"Were you not happy?" The timbre in her voice soft, inquiring.

"I was lonely. Loneliness, at least for me … it was crippling. Overpowering. I mean, I had Ryker, friends, and a few bedfellows, but … there was always something missing. I've always heard being alone is not the same thing as being lonely. Ryker came from a good home in the Gray. Most of the women I was with came from the same. Not once did I find anyone from the Black. No one understood my previous life. They sympathized, of course. Pitied me, because of stories they'd heard or read about … book knowledge is laughable," she added as an afterthought. "I was detached—indifferent. I was in good-standing with my superiors. With those around me, my community. Had a good home, nice things. I was just … _empty_."

"Your … suitors," she began, trying to choose her words with care. "Did you not have a fondness for any of them?" Wondering why in the three the young woman had been so unhappy—forlorn.

"Not really, no. I never allowed myself to," she admitted with no hesitation. "The only woman who ever came close was … her name was Kate. I was with her for over two years. We were close and we understood each other. Understood what the relationship was and was not. There was no desire for anything more, at least not for me. We each filled the gap for the other. We both were simply lonely, and we became each other's company. The sting and affliction of the worlds seemed to diminish when there was a warm body in your bed. Someone to distract you from the heartache of being alone. I cared for her, and would have done anything she asked of me, but I didn't love her. Not the way I should have, at least, considering our relationship."

"Did she love you?"

"Once, yes."

Emma looked past Regina and saw that the shadows of the trees had moved a good two feet. The sun was just on the horizon. Nightfall was about to take them.

"What about you?" Emma asked after a beat.

"I had no time for such petty dalliances. More was always expected. It wasn't just a quick bed. They always wanted more, and I simply did not have the desire nor the time to spend on such paltry games," she explained. "Of course, there was outrage that I had not yet married. I am afraid if I had seated the throne longer than I had, marriage would have been indefinite. But my eight year imprisonment, well, let me just say the guards did not value my wishes."

Emma's immediate response was to clench her fists in anger. To strike something—expel her fury. But her heart acted before her mind and she found herself crying out, her injured hand taking the brunt of her outburst.

Nothing was spoken for a while as darkness masked the shadows; the faint glow of the setting sun diminishing with each second.

Twilight found both women settled within the hollow of the tree, a blazing fire safely within their grasp. The evening was cool but comfortable as Regina held Emma close. For once she was the protector.

"Will you tell me something?" Emma suddenly asked. They had been entranced with the sounds of the night: the crackling and occasional pop of the flames, the hoot of a forest owl, and the lullabies sung by the night insects. Both women were relaxed and groggy.

"What do you wish for me to tell you?"

"Anything really. Your life after the … accident … before even. Just anything you wish to tell?"

The hands encircling Emma's waist tightened their hold. The motion was not lost on the younger woman. "I see. And you? Might I hear the same from you?

Regina felt her nod against her chest. She inhaled a shaky breath as she smoothed the fabric of her cloak with equal trepidation. She moistened her dry lips then spoke, "My childhood … my life really is full of trials, experiences … stories that could entertain even the most hardened of souls. They are not pleasant, and are even harder to speak of, but they are my past. My experiences are what have shaped me, and no matter how desperately I pray, wish, or hope, they will never fade, never leave me." She paused as cool hands reached up and covered her own, stilling their tremulous movements. Regina smiled sadly as she reclined Emma more against her front and interlaced their fingers. "They are a scar. Permanently branded upon my heart. Forever there. A constant reminder. It is why I never burdened you with my past as a child. You were younger than I, and dealing with great issues and hardships of your own. A person encounters much in five years, and who would I have been too fraught you with my own when you had so much yet to experience."

"Regina—"

"Do you remember that first day we met?"

"Course." She went to feel for the bump at the back of her head but winced when she felt a sharp pain rip through her shoulder. The warm liquid from the reopened wounds inched down from their holdings.

"I had been looking for someone. I left the company of my keeper in search of a young man."

"His name was Daniel. He was a few years older than I, and the bastard son of my mother's kitchen maid. Kept to himself. Quiet. Well-mannered and respectful. Everything a Queen expected and demanded of her laborers. But his fault lay in caring for me. He was a fool … but very kind. He often looked at me with the most caring expression, like he could see beneath my carefully constructed armor. I would always return the look with abhorrence and disgust—that was expected. A laborer fawning over royalty—scandal of the greatest proportions. Nevertheless, inside it tore me apart because no one ever looked at me in such a way. No one had ever smiled at me that way." Regina recalled fondly. Smiling at the memory.

"What happened to him?" Emma asked, but in all honesty, afraid of the answer.

"He was killed, by my doing."

_"__Milady, we found this boy in the tunnels below. We think he might have been trying to flee, and he had this," the guard stated as he pulled a silver and jewel hair barrette from his pocket. "I just imagine he was to sell it." _

_The Queen seethed and struck the young boy with the back of her hand. "He must have stolen it. My Regina would never be stupid enough to give something so valuable to such filth. She'd expect to be punished greatly if she did."_

_"__How did you come across this jewel, lad?" the master guard asked the boy, but after no response, the guard restraining him slapped him in the back of the head._

_"__Answer him!" the guard demanded._

_The boy was shaking, but finally found his voice to answer. "I found it on the supper table, Milady. I was gonna return it to the princess at first sight."_

_"__Fetch my daughter. We're about to clear this up."_

_The Queen stared down the power lad as if she could twist his neck with one twitch of her eye._

_"__Mother?" a young and timid voice rang out from the corridor. The sound of her heeled shoes clacking against the stone echoed off the bare walls and became louder as she grew closer. "What is this?" she asked as she entered. "What's happening?"_

_"__This boy was found attempting to flee the palace with your prized barrette, my child. He claims he found it."_

_Regina's back straightened in panic as she answered, "I must have left it on the table after supper." _

_A hard fist came into contact with her cheek and the force knocked her to the cold floor. The accused tensed almost daringly and the guard reprimanded him with a swift blow to the face._

_"__How could you be so careless with something so valuable?! Have I taught you nothing, you ungrateful child!"_

_"__I STOLE IT!" the accused boy yelled out and the room went silent. Regina looked on in horror as the young boy just sealed his fate, and saved Regina from hers._

_"__What did you say?" Cora whispered._

_"__I lied. I stole it from the princess as she was seated at the table. I was serving and took it while she wasn't lookin'," he stated hastily; voice shaking with terror. _

_"__Take her back to her chambers. She's not to leave for the night. As for him … take him to the woods, kill him, and leave his body for the crows," the Queen spoke calmly._

_The guard was taken aback with such a grisly punishment for the young lad, he was but two years older than the Queen's own daughter, which put him at fifteen. But the guard would always obey his Queen. "Aye, My Lady," he stated and hoisted the boy up to his feet before placing a hangman's hood over his head and leading him out._

_"__Mother, please, don't!" Regina had cried out as she was escorted from the room. Her mother had simply answered with a wicked smirk._

"I'll never forget that look in his eyes as the guards tore him away," she said as she continued her recollection of the story. "He understood what he had done, and I did not see once speck of regret on his face. I should have saved him. But my words likely would have meant nothing. My mother was a cruel, cruel woman who found pleasure in other's fears—suffering. I have no doubt he would have been killed that night, regardless of what I would have said. My mother was out for blood, and he was the unfortunate soul who was captured first."

"Regina—"

"The day you saved me from that pack of dogs, when my neck was slashed open and I had bite marks everywhere. Even on my face. I was bleeding out, and your eyes were wide and fearful. You didn't think you'd ever stop the bleeding. Do you remember it as vividly as I do?"

"I could never forget that day. I was terrified of what might happen to you. And your mother … I didn't know what she'd do to you. In my heart … I thought you'd die."

Tears spilt freely over both women's cheeks. Emma hadn't meant for such a dark and heavy topic to emerge, but she should have expected it. After all, Regina had kept silent for a reason. She had wanted to protect Emma from her past. Possibly even from herself.

"I should have," she said. "You should have let me die that day, Emma. I knew what life awaited me. I was not stupid. No matter how many elaborate plans we made to escape, it would have never come to pass. My mother would never have allowed it. That night, after my return home, I was tended to and put to bed. No emotion had graced my mother's face. It was unusual because normally a constant scowl was always present, but it was unnerving that night. My keeper, Dane, who usually kept watch over me, came up as I was resting, and he sat at my bedside and talked with me for a few moments," she said and began to tell Emma all of what happened.

She flinched and her eyes slammed shut at the memory.

_"__Evening, Milady," a soft voice spoke. Dane entered the room and came to stand by Regina's bedside. "May I?" he asked and Regina lifted her bandaged hand as a sign of affirmation. He sat down at the edge of the bed and shifted somewhat nervously. He fiddled with his hands for a beat before he spoke. "I trust you and Emma put up a good a fight. I'd say with the way ya look you certainly did. I would hate to see those beasts."_

_"__They were all slain," a young Regina said._

_"__That's the Mills in ya. Never givin' up, and fightin' with all yer might."_

_"__But I didn't kill them, Emma did."_

_"__Ah, a true savior, that girl is. Saving her Highness, from a ghastly death. But, I'm certain you fought them bastards off with everything ya had, Princess. I'm very proud of you," he stated as his chin quivered. Regina looked at him questioningly, but he dismissed her when he reached over and placed a hand over her own. He closed his eyes as he spoke with much emotion. "You will be a great Queen, Milady. Your heart is so kind and your soul gentle. Your people will adore you. Fear and respect you, yes. But they will love you greatly. You are a rare kind, Princess. Don't ever forget that. You will be great. Far greater than your mother will ever be," he whispered the last, only intending it for Regina's ears, but he was certain it fell upon prying ears, as well. _

_Then two loud knocks at the door sounded and he rose; placing a soft kiss to her hand and bowing to her gracefully. "I'm sorry I failed you, Princess. I hope ya find it in your heart to forgive me one day," he said with finality, but Regina called out to him._

_"__Dane?"_

_He turned. "Princess?"_

_"__You will still help me with my bow, right? It does not lack much and then we can test it out in the fields."_

_"__If you're feeling up to it, Princess, I'll be there," he reassured as tears gathered in his eyes. "Goodbye," he said and walked to the door. His step was firm and unwavering. _

_Regina had been genuinely confused with the whole visit. Dane rarely visited outside of his duties. She looked up as he unlatched the door and pushed it open. One step was taken into the hallway, and before Regina could blink, an arrow pierced his head._

_There was a sickening cry as Regina watched in horror as her confidant and friend's limp body fell to the ground with a nauseating thud. Her eyes never left his body, even as they dragged him away. But as soon as he was out of view, her mother came to the door._

_"__I hope you learned a valuable lesson today, my dearest Regina. Your actions will always have consequences, and there will always be others who pay for them. Some, with their life. Just keep that knowledge with you at all times, I would detest someone else having to pay the price for your mistakes like poor Dane. Good night." _

"Gods …" Emma stated in horror.

During the recollection, Emma had situated herself so she could face Regina.

"That was the last day I saw you. I never ventured out from the palace walls after that." She stopped, forcing a sob back down her throat. "I hated you … for saving me that day. I did for a long time."

The admission struck Emma into a stupor. What was one to say to that? She opened and closed her mouth several times waiting for the appropriate words to come out, waiting for anything that would have eased the tension that had settled over them. Instead, she opted for the simplest gesture—comfort, a kind hand to her arm.

"I never would have had to see Dane die like I did. He didn't deserve that. I never would have watched my mother kill others in the name of senseless pride. I never would have known she–" she stopped mid sentence, out of breath, heaving in panic. She had almost brought life to her darkest and most guarded secret. Regina took a steadying breath and continued with her eyes closed. "I never would have taken the throne and became the one thing I had always loathed. I never would have been the infamous Evil Queen who people spat upon at the very utterance of her name. I would have never been imprisoned—never hated, and I would have never felt the pain, anger, hostility, and rage that I feel today. But that day … I would have died happy—content. Because that's how I felt then. I was innocent and had outlandish plans with my best friend who I adored … whose family treated me better than my own mother." Her words seemed harder and harder to come by. And with each passing moment, Emma felt an even greater pain settle in the pit of her stomach, the sting worse than the deepest of her wounds. But she feared these wounds would not heal easily.

She listened as Regina continued. "Instead, you saved me and unknowingly set me on this destructive path. That day you condemned me to this fate. A fate worse than death. I hated you then, and I think a very small … a _very_ small part of me continues to do so. And I _abhor_ myself for feeling this way because you are such …" The words caught in her throat as her lips and chin quivered in a violent motion. She shifted suddenly, leaning forward to touch her hand to Emma's face. Graceful fingers stroked the damp hair from her eyes. They sparkled in the dim glow of the fire. "You are such a wonderful person. You are … _everything_. _Everything_ to me."

At that simple, yet grand admission, Emma leaned in the remaining distance and, with her good hand, brought Regina in for a heartfelt kiss. Just the gentlest brushing of lips.

But it was enough for both to taste the lingering salt of each other's tears—evidence of their burdens, and how it felt to be free of them, if not for but a moment in time.

"I'm sorry, Regina," Emma whispered against her lips. She pulled away, remaining close enough to see the beautiful coloring of her irises in the soft light. "Gods! I'm sorry you had to witness such things and _feel_ such things. I never wanted that for you, the Gods know I didn't. But I never would have forgiven myself if you hadn't of lived. I don't regret that day … and that's so selfish of me. But because you lived … because you lived, I was able to find you again. I found you," she repeated as Regina shuddered violently; suppressing a cry as her whole body convulsed. "And who knows, the Gods always have a twisted sense of things when it comes to this but, perchance some good will come from our suffering. Perhaps it's fate's way of working everything out for the better. Maybe we both have a fighting chance now at happiness. And … I—I may not be the giver of such joy for you … but maybe we can lead each other in the direction of it." A warm, gloved hand caressed her cheek and she leaned into it. "I would have slain your mother had I known. The Gods know I would have."

Regina looked upon her with great respect. "You would not have, though. That is who you are. What separates you from everyone else … from me. She was my mother, and regardless of how sick and evil she was, she was still just that—my mother."

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry."

"Don't ever apologize for such words, for they come from your heart, Emma. You were always my protector, and I am honored by your words regardless of how inapt you see them to be. She was my mother and guardian for twenty of my years. She was all I knew, and I did love her once."

"That still doesn't make it right, what she did to you. And I do believe that if I had been present and witnessed her abuse toward you, I _would_ have stopped her."

"You were but a child, Emma."

Emma frowned and whispered, "As were you."

In the minute distance they shared, it was heard loud and clear. Emma gave her a soft smile before she rested her forehead against Regina's. The woman gasped at the close contact, but Emma simply regarded her without prejudice and placed a chaste kiss against her flush forehead. Emma pulled away and whispered her fingers across a wet cheek before she met a now mahogany pair of eyes.

The caress revealed so much and it had Regina's head spinning with too many clouded emotions and feelings. But at least she felt something. She hungered for so long to feel something—_anything_, but the paucity of feeling. And it was everything she expected. Too much yet too little. Exhilarating yet suffocating. Wonderful yet terrifying. Much time had passed since anyone had embraced her in such a way. Full of tenderness and care. Her breath hiccupped as her chest filled with vigor and she found her own hand rising to cup a damp cheek that mirrored her own. As she stared into darkening green eyes, her heart swelled; the feeling overwhelming. She grasped at it because while it mended itself, repairing a life of emptiness, it shattered anew, because the woman settled within her arms had all the power to completely break her. Yet nothing but love shone through. And that hope, that twinkle and softness in her eyes, was enough to allow her this moment. This moment of pure unadulterated joy as it would surely end sooner rather than later.

"Why do you always look at me in such a way?" Regina asked softly as her thumb stroked the skin beneath Emma's eye, her chin quivering. "With such gentleness. Why do you fail to see me as everyone else does?"

"Because I see all that matters." And Emma kissed her with all the undying passion her tender and aching body would yield. The kiss reflected all the emotions stashed away. Second by second, as the kiss deepened and wondering hands paid close attention to damaged flesh, defenses were chiseled away. Chip by chip until something whole—undiscovered took shape, and it was beautiful.

"Emma."

"Would you come away with me?" she asked breathlessly. "When all this is over?"

"Emma … I—"

The sudden sound of quick movements within the dark forest stole their breath away. They didn't breathe or even blink. They sat as still as a frozen lake on a windless day. The only sounds were of those around them.

Regina bid for her heart to still, afraid its furious beating could be heard by whatever beast surrounded them. She was certain Emma felt it.

Never before had she felt so useless; holding a wounded woman in her arms, cloaked by the debilitating shroud of darkness. Whatever was out there held the advantage because Regina, foolish as she was, didn't even have enough foresight to bring her bow and arrows into the hollow. She just doomed them both.

A loud scream shot straight through their bodies, sending pinpricks from their heads down to their toes.

The noise grew louder—deafening. A large shadow caught Emma's eyes and she held Regina with every ounce of strength she had. Secretly, she grasped the handle of her dagger, ready to fight and defend until her last breath.

She pressed her lips to Regina's ears and without thought, mumbled words—a language long since extinct. An ancient tongue only spoken by the Gods of Thrice.

_"__May the Gods of Thrice show us compassion, and if deemed worthy carry our souls forth."_

* * *

**Feedback is valued as it lets me know what works and what doesn't and where I need to improve. It is a valuable gift, so thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave a review. :)  
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	15. Chapter XII - The Walkers

**AN: Thanks guys for all the alerts and especially all the wonderful reviews! :)  
**

**Just a reminder: no beta so all mistakes are my own. **

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**Chapter XII - The Walkers**

Papers fluttered as the bitter draft from the large paned windows seeped through the thin, dry air. Anders had been keeping to the books since Ryker's shocking discovery, occupying hours at a time in the library. Milling through generations of past leaders, history of the realms, knowledge of Enterty—their life and energy source, and studying the immortally of Gods and their offspring. Something had to be here, hidden within the pages. Tucked away between the lines. There was a reason for it all. There had to be. Cora did nothing rash. Everything was well-thought out—planned and executed with perfection. She was to gain something from this, but what he didn't know.

But what was it?

In the thousands of pages he had scanned and turned, nothing had been mentioned about the great hollows. Nothing alluded to the realms being anything more than separate kingdoms, ruled by different rulers, yet overseen by the High Council of Thrice. Nothing to justify Regina's claims, other than the sheets of parchment paper and the mythical purifier orbs she revealed.

Nothing to indicate Cora's plot.

"What does she want?" he mumbled to himself. "What'da she get out of this?"

Being out of communication with the other realms didn't help his efforts either. Kael, Ryker, and himself were the only visitors to the Black he trusted. He kept faith in no one else. Right now, his only true confidant was hundreds of leagues away. Heading straight into an unforeseen trap.

He turned the page in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at the page with nothing more than boredom, until a heading caught his eyes.

_Demigods_

_Half mortal and half divine in which the deity gene overtakes the mortal gene._

_Defined as gods in their own right; hence, a demigod's offspring will be deemed a demigod by birthright._

_Howe__ver, procreation by a demigod is an act against both divine and moral codes. Prosecution is weighed heavily according to the extent of violation._

He reread the passage several times, not understanding why, but doing it nevertheless. Then he began to thread possible scenarios together. Demigods were seen as an extension of the God that mothered or fathered them. They were a god in their own right, and with them came power—influence. But that seemed to be the most outlandish of possibilities.

A knock at the door broke this thought. After calling the visitor in, the heavy wooden door creaked open to reveal the eldest High Council Member.

Anders listened for the door to close before he began speaking, "Well? What news do ya bring?"

He watched while tapping his quill as the older man moved across the room and took a seat in front of him at the table.

"None good, I'm afraid." He picked up the first book at the top of the pile and began to thumb through it. Stopping at a couple marked pages, and glancing over the words scribed there. "I've looked into your claims …" he said as he continued to turn pages.

"And?" Anders asked, not in the mood to wait.

"And, they're true."

"What does this mean?"

"I'm afraid you already know the answer to that, Anders," Kael said with a resounding thump as he closed the small yet heavy book. The elder leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. "We are dealing with something far greater than we ever imagined. And that fellow of The White you asked me about? His name is Henry, Supreme Leader of The White. Cora's first husband." He paused, allowing the words to mingle in the air. "We are alone in this, Master Anders. I fear a cleansing is taking place. The White and Black have always been at odds, and we have never fared well between the two. If a King of White and a Queen of Black collaborate—" he stopped, and shrugged his shoulders.

Anders studied him carefully, noting the trepidation in his eyes. It was almost a look of defeat. Hopelessness. "I do not wish to think of the consequences."

"But Cora … how can a human die and yet live again? Even by the Gods, it is impossible."

"Cora's death was ruled as intentional poisoning. It was meant to appear as a legitimate and lethal dose of poison. However, we've since discovered an extract that, when mixed with other exotic organics, can produce an effect similar to poison. You see, the victim's heart rate slows to such a degree, a second heartbeat is never heard in tandem with the first. Their lifeless … eyes and skin alluding to death."

"But people were executed for her murder," Anders said in astonishment.

Kael nodded slowly. "Security, I'm sure. Had to look authentic, and death certainly is."

"But why? She was Queen of the Black! She had enough power and influence to reign successfully for years and years to come. Why piss it away?"

"_That_ is the question so many are asking. Why, indeed? I'm afraid we won't fully know that answer until the fallen Queen and Miss Swan make it to The Gray. Then and only then, once the transcendent portals are functioning fully, will we have our answers. Maybe not even then. Who knows the outcome of this. Perhaps the fallen Queen has been misled? We all could perish at the end of this. Regardless of how the next few weeks or months pan out. The transatmosphereic portals may indeed be unstoppable. Are you certain there is nothing else the lad heard? The smallest of detail can mean the difference between existence and nonexistence."

"I told you everything he told me."

Kael nodded in resignation. "Very well."

"But I do have a favor to ask." Anders began. "I need the lineage papers for both Emma and Miss Mills. More specifically, their parental lineage. Even if the blood relations were never contested."

Kael's brow furrowed; taken aback with the odd request. "Why? What for?" He approached Anders as if searching for something the other man was refusing to tell. Perhaps hopeful it would show on his face.

"Cora forged a plan. It's been a long time in the making, and it revolves around these two women. I need to see what we're lookin' at here. If there's anything hidden away, anything of significance."

"Their ancestry will have no bearings, I'm certain of it. But regardless, I'll see that they find their way into your hands."

"Thank you, sir."

Kael turned and walked to the door. "Bring the lad to me. It's imperative that I speak with him as soon as possible." Then he left, leaving Anders to find the young man.

At two levels below and several corridors later, Anders arrived at Ryker's sleeping quarters. The halls were uncommonly quite, but given the time of day, mid-afternoon to be exact, most if not all inhabitants of this level were out working.

"Mister Tibbins," he called out from behind the door, allowing three solid knocks in succession. He waited, but no answer came.

"Tibbins?" he called again, but after no answer the second time, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside. "Ryker?"

Nothing was out of place, but that in itself was alarming. He saw no personal items; no clothing or shoes and the bedclothes were folded neatly on top of the mattress. He looked around the vacant room, and it hit him.

"Oh no," he whispered and instantly made his way to the stables.

"Ay!" he shouted as he grabbed a stable boy by his sleeve, whipping him around with force. The poor boy almost fell to his feet. "I'm lookin' for a young lad who might have ridden out on horseback. Short blond hair, green eyes, not from here."

"Aye, sir. He left durin' the witchin' hour. Demanded our finest steed, he did."

He released his hold on the boy and looked out toward the same gate Emma and Regina had passed through. He ran a hand over his face in frustration. Both of his apprentices … gone, one most certainly lost, and the other in peril. Their chances were not looking good. With a look of disgust, and with his head low, he headed back into the palace to give Kael the alarming development.

* * *

"Gone?" the older gentleman asked in shock.

"He went after them. Left at midnight."

"Count him among the dead," he stated gravely. He poured himself a nice goblet of wine as he walked to the nearby window. "They were too far out of reach. He would've never caught up with them. He won't survive Fawr, not by himself. That's a guarantee."

"You underestimate him."

Kael regarded him solemnly and offered him a glass of wine. Anders politely refused.

"You underestimate the dark forest. There is no life beyond the boundaries, and there's a reason for that."

"What happens now?"

"Nothing. Nothing more can be done until the portals are functional again. But bring me this Darcy character you've spoken of."

* * *

Branches snapped and leaves rose from their keepings as the entity moved toward them with frightening speed. The pace methodic—familiar: thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump. Emma eyes remained closed as she listened, listened for the first noise to enter her striking distance, which would really be all too close to them to make a difference. The fire was still alight, giving them enough sight to see in the small radius around them.

Then, it was on them, like a bat startling a predator: sudden and without warning. It was a massive black creature who, once reared on its back legs, towered feet above them. The sounds emitted from the creature were ungodly. But something bright kept catching Emma's eyes. It flashed in the light of the flames. Something metal, perhaps. That's when it dawned on her. It was Trysu.

"Trysu?!" Emma called out, and the creature circled their tree, still panicked.

The older woman pulled away from Emma's hold, releasing her own, as she searched for the horse. "Oh, thank the Gods!"

Both women relaxed as the threat vanished with their breath. But, the unnatural cries still sounded in the distance.

Regina rose from her spot and approached Trysu with calmness and ease, talking as she stepped, trying to soothe the spooked horse. The separation from Emma allowed her to process what happened moments prior. Even through all the excitement, Regina was still perplexed about the words uttered from the young woman's mouth.

"What was it you spoke?" Regina asked as she rubbed Trysu's forehead.

"What?"

"You spoke something; it was not of our language."

Emma jerked her head back, puzzled as her mouth opened and closed without a sound. "I—I didn't say anything."

"But you did, Emma."

Emma started to stand, but eyes suddenly become lidded. Her head swayed side-to-side as her body moved with it. She fell back against the rear of the hollow, and Regina ran to her side.

"Emma?" she called, cupping her cheeks. Emma, look at me."

"I jus—" she tried. "Dizzy is all."

"I believe you spoke the ancient language of the Gods. A rare feat in itself, let alone by a human."

"Wha—"

"What did you say? You held me close and whispered something into my ear. What was it?"

"I just asked for the Gods to have mercy on us. To protect us."

"Where did you learn to speak in such a way?"

"I never … I haven't!" she said, exaggerating her point with a slight shrill to her voice. "I know no other language than my native tongue. My—my mother used to tell me verses written in the language of old, but … are sure that wasn't what you heard?"

"I know many languages and tongues from my time as Queen, and I have never heard such words spoken before. But, the way you spoke, it was just as the tomes described. Beautiful, spiritual, calming—peace evoking. At that moment, I no longer feared."

"I don't remember."

Regina noticed a slight tremor to her voice. She studied her for a moment while a thousand different scenarios came to mind, and saw that the young woman was shaking despite her heavy clothing and ample blankets.

"Are you cold?" she asked, placing her hands against Emma's clammy cheeks then moving one to her forehead. She looked peaked. "You are warm. You have a fever." She pulled an old rag from her pocket and did her best to wet it with what water they had. The next stream ran several yards from them. More distance than she was willing to put between herself and the incapacitated woman. She then placed the cool rag atop Emma's forehead.

Regina hoped the fever would break by first light. If not, their situation became even direr.

In the distance, haunting squeals and screams filled the pitch blackness. None sounded any closer, yet they didn't sound any further away either.

"What are those things?" Emma asked as her eyes became lidded.

"I know not," she said. The appalling cries increasing in loudness.

"Sounds like there's more of 'em. D'ya think the fire is drawing them?" Emma asked more alert than before.

"We'll smother it, just to be safe."

Regina began work distributing the logs and embers out so fresh moist soil could be dumped over the pit. The few larger logs were rolled off to the side, as the small campfire was slowly extinguished. Emma for her part had remained bow and arrow at the ready, still hunkered in her cubby. The cries in the distance seemed to stall as the drawing flames disappeared into the night air.

"I think it's gonna work," Emma stated with bated breath as her keen ears searched for alien sounds around them.

"Yes, I believe so."

Emma released the heavy breath she had been holding, and the moist breath materialized itself thickly in the cool, damp air. "Damn, we've always had a fire at night, never gone without one."

"We will this night, Emma."

"It's dangerous not to have a fire—"

"Yet we would be in more danger if we did, I'm afraid. Now rest. I will stay watch for a while."

"Not gonna happen, Your Majesty." Emma stated, grunting in pain as her body began to shiver.

Regina shook her head and sighed in exasperation as she moved to take the bow and arrows from Emma. "Your body needs rest in order to heal. Have you forgotten our task?" she asked, irritation coloring her voice.

Their health's hung at the top of their priorities because without it, the lands they traveled on would surely take them. A strong body and keen mind could often overcome the most daunting obstacles.

"What? Of course not!" Emma said, sounding offended at Regina's tone. The older woman insinuating that she might no longer be capable of the journey didn't settle well. Emma never rested, always working hard for what she wanted. Never slacking when other's depended on her.

She wanted to prove Regina wrong, that a few gashes and bruises would not stop her. But as she went to stand, the pressure put on her wounded hand and shoulder made her scream, the pain forcing her back down.

Understanding the younger woman's plight; having experienced similar conflicts before, looked to her with a sad smile and kneeled beside her. "Then you know we cannot travel with you in such a state." Her eyes kind as she spoke. Full of unspoken emotions: fear, worry, helplessness, care, and determination. "Now. Rest. _Please_."

Emma agreed with a fair amount of reluctance and soon they found themselves pressed tightly up against the other. Each trying to crawl into the other; looking for relief from the cool, damp night air and from the apparitions testing their sanity. Regina's strong arms encircled Emma's waist as she pulled her side flush against her own. The tremors seemed worst than they were minutes ago.

"If you could have anything … anything at all … never mind the realm's boundaries, what would you want?" Emma whispered into her ear as her teeth clattered violently. She desperately wanted to get her mind off the constant needle pricks that the threatening fever draped across her body.

She heard the Queen shallow thickly and a felt her inhale deeply. "Happiness," Regina spoke. "To be happy, for once in my life. I want that, and all it entails."

"And you don't think you deserve that? Or are capable of that?"

"No, I truly do not," Regina answered, full of truth and longing. Emma inhaled sharply at the fallen Queen's openness. Emma urged Regina to turn over so she was facing Emma. Their personal space obliterated at the move. A small, graceful hand reached the small distance and brushed a few strands of dark brown hair from Regina's eyes, tucking them behind her ear. "People like me are not rewarded with happiness," Regina continued. "We are meant to suffer. To be examples for all who consider or are tempted by the dark side of life. We are the archetype of evil and how good always triumphs. As for me, no matter how desperately I long for happiness, and even if it was possible for me, I don't think I would ever yield to it. It would just be one more thing to take away, and if that happened, I would not survive."

"I think y'know that's not true," she said between teeth clatters. "You're one of the strongest women I know. You get all that you want, and if you truly want happiness, you'll get it."

"I think you know it's not that simple, Emma." Regina breathed; her trembling voice spoke volumes to her racing thoughts.

"What if it is?" she asked drawing Regina closer; their forehead bumping.

"It's never simple." Regina reiterated, but at that moment, all thought evaporated into the thin night air as Emma closed the small distance and kissed her ever so gently. It was hesitant and cautious, yet unyielding, and Regina collapsed into it.

Never had anyone shown Regina the care, attentiveness, desire and, dare she say, _love _that Emma was demonstrating. Regina understood it was far too early to give such actions deep meanings, but here, at this moment, she felt free to do so. Never had she experienced such an overwhelming joy, and all she wanted to do was crawl into it, and live within. She decided in that second, that happiness was not the only thing she craved.

The intense heat which radiated from the younger woman was alarming, yet Emma, for the moment anyway, did not seemed phased. She held back and just let every sensation that Emma offered, fill her to the brim and exploded at the millions of nerve endings within her body.

The kiss was chaste, and Regina found her hands escaping from the protective layer of blankets to reach up and tenderly grasp Emma's red and chapped cheeks. With care, Regina separated them, and took a moment to study the woman who unknowingly took her breath away. She looked into diffident emerald irises which seemed to resemble the color of the darkened foliage that shrouded them. Her thumbs lovingly stroked the woman's wind burnt cheeks before easing down to trace full, yet chapped lips.

Then, Emma's face and body tensed as a fresh wave of pain washed over her. She jerked in Regina's hold.

"Regina," Emma choked out as a sob escaped from her chest. Regina did her best to soothe and comfort the woman in her arms.

"Shh," she whispered. "You're safe with me. You're safe. I won't let you go." Regina spoke trying in vain to calm not only Emma's worries and doubts, but her own as well. She didn't know if she actually believed her own words or not, but she hoped Emma did. This was bound to be a long night.

* * *

Eyes fluttered open to reveal the early morning rays of sun. She forgot what woke her, but the loud sound of clacking metal explained her wake from sleep. The sound shattered her head, and she groaned as she cupped her good hand over her eyes and her temples with the other. The pressure was astounding, throbbing from the backs of her eyes, to her temples, to the back of her head. She thanked the Gods she wasn't standing, because the pain would surely have brought her to her knees.

A cool, damp cloth was laid over eyes, and she closed them on instinct, thankful for the fast relief.

After several minutes, the pain abated and a soft, melodious voice called her back. "Good morning."

Emma moved the cloth and squinted at Regina standing above her. "I feel like death," Emma muttered. "And then someone shook the shit out me to wake me."

Regina said nothing, just continued to wipe her face. She pulled a small vial out of her pouch, opened it, and sprinkled the grainy powder under Emma's tongue.

It tasted bitter and metallic as it filled her mouth.

"Your fever broke in the night," Regina spoke. Emma could sense the tension in her voice. It was written in her eyes, too. "Soaked your clothes and blankets through. I have them drying."

"What's wrong with me?"

"I fear you have been poisoned. Either by the cat's claws, teeth, or saliva … perhaps all three? It is too early for infection to have set in. We will not see that until later, I'm afraid."

"What is it?"

"I do not know the extent of the poison, or even if is indeed that. I know nothing about what ails you, or how to treat it."

Emma twisted her head to the side, away from the cloth and hand resting at her head. She stared out into the brightening woods. Her bottom lip and chin quivered. Now, she would certainly slow them down. A burden … that was what she had become. She looked back to Regina and placed her hand on Regina's own, showing that she had appreciated the gesture.

"We need to keep moving," Emma said, ignoring Regina's concern.

Regina, however, threw her hands up in frustration.

"And how do you expect to do that? Can you even stay upright on a horse?"

"Regina, I can walk for now."

"Well, if we're going to leave, we best start moving again. We have hundreds of leagues to go yet, and I'm afraid our speed of travel has been lessened dramatically," Regina said as she rolled up their bedroll and tied it to Trysu. With only one horse, and an injured woman, they'd be lucky to make much progress at all.

Emma, having difficulties even rising from her spot, protested. "All right, how 'bout you ride first. I'll walk."

"Absolutely not!" Fuming, Regina stomped across the soon-to-be vacant campsite and poised an accusatory finger at the young woman. "You can barely stand, let alone walk."

"The horse can't support us both, Regina. At least not for the distance we're lookin' at. What else do you purpose we do?"

"You ride. I walk."

She watched as Emma struggled to her feet. Regina ran and got her walking stick which had remained propped up against the tree. She grabbed under Emma's good arm and steadied her as she finally stood.

Her legs felt heavy and her vision whitened as she stood for the first time. After several deep breaths, she regained her strength and waved Regina to continue packing as she waited out the nausea.

Emma watched the Regina bag the remaining items from their camp. Everything was almost ready.

Little did Emma know that dark burgundy eyes had watched her every struggled move. Every flinch, every muscle tweak in pain. Eyes saw the twinge and toil with each step.

When verdant eyes met her own, she gave Emma a small, sad smile, and continued her task.

Emma limped the few yards distance to where Regina stood. "Hey, are—are you all right?" Emma asked, slightly winded from the sting in her flesh.

"I'm fine, dear," she answered quietly.

Emma was about to protest, but a soft hand found purchase against hers; their fingers interlacing. "Truly," she reiterated and squeezed Emma's hand for emphasis.

"They were nightwalkers," Regina began as she nodded toward the belly of the forest. "Before you woke, I went out to gather food. In the daylight I discovered the source of the screams—nightwalkers. They are what you so crudely referred to as half-breeds. They resemble humans except they are anything but."

"How d'ya know?"

The older woman's gaze cut to the forest and she pursed her lips. "I found one," she said. Grabbing her bow and arrow bag, she inclined her head for Emma to follow. "Come."

She walked a few paces in front of Emma, but kept her step even and slow as to not exasperate Emma's wounds any further.

The walk took several minutes but eventually led to a grove. There, on the edge of the tree lay something still.

Emma stood beside it, and pushed its shoulder back with her walking stick. "What happened to it?"

The stench surrounding it was not of death, but its own natural odor.

"Killed … by an arrow." Regina said as pointed to its neck.

Emma exhaled in relief. "Yours," she stated assuredly.

"No, Emma. I have never seen such arrows. Look at the wood. This was made from an indigenous tree. Trees that do not inhabit any of The Three."

"What are you saying?"

"Something … _someone_ killed this creature. Whether friend or foe, human or beast, I know naught."

"We're being followed?"

"Followed, pursued … hunted, again I know naught."

Emma eyes widened as she immediately looked around them, searching the trees in vain for a sign of anything—something. But she knew whatever it was would be smart enough to stay hidden, out of sight.

She swallowed before looking back at the creature at their feet. "Are those claws?"

"Talons, yes, and deathly sharp ones."

"Damn, the bone structure…it pays mind to that of a bird. They're appalling creatures."

"We best keep keen eyes and trained ears henceforth. These hollowed lands are not meant to be traveled. They are meant as a deterrent. Who knows what the Gods have placed within these wicked lands, and we're heading straight into it."

"It can't be all bad."

"My dear," Regina began. "You have spent far too much time in The Gray."

* * *

**As always, feedback is valued as it lets me know what works and what doesn't and where I need to improve. It is a valuable gift, so thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave a review. It is greatly appreciated. :)**


	16. Chapter XIII - New Beginnings

**AN: Thanks for the alerts and especially to those of you who take the time to review! **

**No beta so all mistakes are my own. **

* * *

**Chapter XIII - New Beginnings**

She walked the long line, surveying the hundreds who stood before her. They varied in size, occupation, age, experience and wealth. A medley of men ready to do her bidding. Lord Tyron walked by her side, pleased with himself for gathering such a robust group. Cora saw it on his face, and yearned to wipe the pleased grin from it.

She scoffed as she stared at one man in particular. He was blind in one eye as well as a mute, a result from having his tongue cut out. His ratty and stained clothes looked several sizes too large, a true testament considering his stout stature. Yet beside him stood a scrawny, lanky little thing, barely fit to carry her wine yet alone a steel sword.

The bright early spring sun shined down on the courtyard. It was mid-afternoon, and the rays accentuated their grimy appearances, their greasy hair glistened in the light. She grimaced while continuing her appraisal.

She pulled a clean cloth from her belt and proceeded to wipe imagined filth from her hands. "These were all the men you could rally to our cause?" she asked, seeming indifferent. Her heeled boots muffled by the emerging grass and moist dirt.

"Yes, My Lady. One thousand able-bodied men, just as you requested."

"Ages?"

"Youngest is sixteen, oldest is thirty-eight."

She considered his words as she glanced around, moving strands of wayward hair from her face. The wind was fluid this day. "And are they capable of holding a sword?"

"They are our finest laborers, My Lady. Blacksmiths, farmers, carpenters, thatchers, masons, farriers. Their arms are strong."

"That is not what I asked." Impatience colored her words.

He swallowed; his former satisfaction now in question.

"Never matter. I'm looking for numbers more than capabilities," Cora said as she continued her walk, stopping often to examine her forces. "If they are too inept to hold and swing a sword, then they deserve whatever fate they meet. I'm in need of a distraction," she said, turning to Tyron and signaling to move to a more private conversation. They left leaving the hundreds of men to the guards appointed to their care.

Cora and Tyron walked to a nearby shade tree which was just beginning to get its spring growth. "Neither realm is expecting this move," she began. "They'll be blindsided. My dolt of a first love expects us to rule side-by-side. Our kingdoms separate while we alone hold all the power. But you see, I do not desire to share. I will take all that's mine. The kingdoms will fall. They all will bow to me—The Queen of Thrice. Light, dark, and gray will be no more. We will all be equal under my reign. These men here will enter each of the two realms, five hundred at a time. Plenty enough to overwhelm the inhabitants, and while they are plaguing the cities with chaos, I will make my move. I will have my daughter, and she will serve her purpose. Then the demigod will play her part. At each and every moment, a leader will fall. Henry will die, along with everyone else who oppose me. My daughter will be sacrificed, the demigod will perish, and I will stand on my throne and watch the realms burn. But life always rises from the ashes. It will be glorious."

Lord Tyron nodded, pleased with the exhibition of force that stood in front of him. "A true sight, Majesty."

"And will you stand by me, Tyron, Lord of the Dark?"

"For as long as you reign, Majesty."

Cora smirked then replied, "Then you shall have a place by my side."

They began moving further down the line when, "Your Majesties!" Someone calls to them. Whoever it is, they are drawing closer. Cora looks off to her right and finds a young boy, no older than thirteen, racing toward them, his face red and covered in sweat.

Cora's mouth gaped in repugnance at the undignified behavior. "What in the—"

The boy interrupted her, speaking through labored breaths. "A body has been brought back from the boundaries."

"_What?_" Her eyes narrowed and lips thinned as she stared the poor boy down.

"A body, Majesty. It was found—"

"I heard you the first time! You incompetent fool!" she said with a snarl, her lips upturned in disgust. "Just announce it to the whole realm next time. You are lucky I'm feeling generous today, if I weren't your tongue would be in my hand. Now leave and keep your mouth shut."

The boy bowed, tripping over his own feet with eyes wide as he sprinted off.

Cora smirked as she watched the boy retreat in fear. "You think I'm a monster," she stated to Tryon.

"Course not, Majesty"

"You would be correct, you know. Power and control does not come from generosity and kindness. When people have no reason to fear you that is when you truly lose," she finished, pulling on her black silk gloves that she had removed earlier during their encounter. "Bring me the body. I want to see who crossed, and silence that _boy_ … permanently, for the dead do not speak."

"Might I suggest, Majesty, instead of disposing of someone young and able-bodied, why not we add him to this lot here? A boy so young might fight as well as a drunken villein, but perchance, he could take down a few foes. Be of use to us?"

Cora glared at him with contempt. Not many questioned her authority, yet here stood a man who did so repeatedly; undermining her word. No matter.

"Your lack of intelligence astounds me, but I will humor you. Put a blade in his hand, but if one word escapes his mouth about what he saw, I'll put a blade through your neck."

* * *

"Emma?" Regina called, her frazzled and dirty hand cupping an unresponsive cheek. They had been traveling for days. Emma steadily got worse; infection bubbling up within her skin and blood. Yet their travel, at the request of Emma, never halted even traveling at night to make up lost time. Dangers lurked at such notions, but Regina willed herself to continue on, leading Trysu along the way.

Her feet were blistered to the point of being one piece of raw flesh. Her dark her matted and frayed, hands dirty and calloused, lips chapped and cracked. She wanted to fall over into the soft cushioning of the ground and never wake from her sleep. Her legs ached for it, her feet screamed for it. The pulsating ache which thrummed through her whole body demanded it with ferocity. She was thirsty, hungry, and fatigued.

But the sound of a loud thump behind her had drawn her waning attention from the horizon set in front of her.

In a haze, she had looked back, and her stomach bottomed out. Emma had fallen from her saddle. She had came close several times, exhaustion and injury getting the better of her, but she merely shrugged it off, and secured herself to the seat with leather straps. It held as long as the full weight of her body didn't strain against it. "Emma, look at me! Emma? Please," Regina begged as tears began to settle within her eyes. She moved her to a nearby tree and then went back to tie Trysu in place. Emma was still unresponsive, her skin pale and lips blue. She looked like death was about to take her. "Please, don't leave me." Her bottom lip trembled as moisture gathered within her eyes. Regina brushed back damp and matted strands of blonde hair from an ashen face. She looked so peaceful at the moment.

Regina looked around frantically, not knowing what to do. She was about out of options. Perhaps their journey wasn't meant to continue. Maybe their destiny would be concluded here. "I don't know what to do," she whispered to herself.

"I will be back, love. I would never leave you."

She left in search of anything—_something_ that could help Emma. But she found nothing.

Dejected, she walked back to where Emma rested and was about to make camp for day when a loud snap grabbed her attention. Without thought, and in one fluid motion, she reached behind her and drew her bow and arrow. It was drawn and at the ready when she finally spotted what caused the noise. She paled upon her discovery.

"Do not move!" Regina shouted as she stood protectively over Emma's prone body; her bow ready to strike the threat down. It was strange and unnerving to see a human of such nature in this part of the world. They hadn't seen an actual person for several weeks. That thought alone made Regina's draw tighten. "Do not tweak a muscle or so help me Gods I will send this arrow straight into your heart," she threatened harshly as her cold and intent red eyes settled on timid, yet curious gray. The woman looked impossibly young. Her face was fresh despite her well worn clothing and shoes. Her jerkin was tattered and torn with various holes and burns and her breeches were fairing no better. Her brown hair was pulled back into a loose tie, exposing her bright eyes. She must have been no older than twenty years.

The girl lifted her arms in surrender and in a move of peace. "I mean neither you nor lady any harm," she said gently. Her voice even, not showing an ounce of fear. "I've been following you both for days," she continued.

Regina's scowl hardened at the young woman's words. They had been tracked—stalked this whole time. What if it had been a person with ill intent? They could have been ambushed on the spot, no way to defend themselves until it was too late. They had been sitting ducks. "Why? What is your intention with us? Kill us, then loot our warm corpses?" Regina growled. The grip on the bow never lessened.

"No, we never see strangers cross these lands. You and your lady's movements caught our attention many days back. My people and I were just simply curious," she spoke as if it were the most obvious answer. She actually seemed halfway offended at the idea of Regina accusing her of horrendous schemes.

However, Regina was most concerned with one word—people. "Your people?" she asked as if looking for confirmation. "There are more of you?"

"Of course—" The young woman began but was interrupted by yet another question.

"How many?"

"Hundreds or so. We're all scattered about the lands, some in separate tribes that span dozens of leagues apart."

"Should I be expecting a knife in my back at any given time?" Regina demanded. The bow was still taut at aimed at the young woman's chest.

She shook her head, and then slowly lowered her arms down to her side, carefully noting to keep her hands away from her body and fingers spread with palms out. "No, as long as you leave me unharmed, no harm will come to either of you."

After those words were spoken Regina lowered her bow and lessened the tension.

"She's sick, isn't she?" the brown haired woman asked as she motioned to Regina's still form.

"Yes."

The young girl walked over to Emma; her movements slow and easy as to not alarm or spook Regina into fear of Emma's safety. She knelt and observed the pale and clammy skin. Emma's lips were chapped and had a white ring around them. "I haven't seen her stir much in these days I've been following you." She stood and walked the few paces back to Regina. "There's a tribal village not but a day's ride from here. They could treat her."

"We simply do not have time," Regina said to her. "We have to get to the Gray and as quickly as possible."

"You're here because of that, aren't you?" she asked as she pointed to a large black speak far out in the horizon.

Regina looked hard at the ominous cloud in the distance. She couldn't say if she had even noticed the dark spot before that moment. She had been engrossed and caught up in her and Emma's travels that she missed it.

"Yes."

"And what if she dies?" the woman suddenly asked.

Regina flinched, the question catching her off guard. It wasn't that she had not allowed such thoughts to materialize; her mind was a dark abyss rooted in pessimism and fear, after all. But it was one thing to think in such a way, but to have it voiced, that made it all the more real.

"Will you be able to stop it if she does? Because I don't think she'd last the remaining voyage. And you were lookin' to stay here, until either she died, or you found some way to heal her, whichever came first."

Regina slumped her shoulders in defeat. "I knew naught what to do. She was too heavy to lift back onto the saddle, and I'm exhausted. Caring for a horse, an unconscious woman, and yourself, as well as setting up and taking down camp became too much." Admitting her failure—her weakness was a hard. Emma had always been the strong one—protective. _Her_ protector. Yet here, when she was at her most vulnerable—her weakest, Regina couldn't even manage to save her in turn. Fitting perhaps. She was the taker of lives, not the savior.

But a hand on her shoulder drew her out of such thoughts. The young woman smiled in understanding. "Well, I'm here now. I can surely help. But we should head out as soon as possible, though."

Regina nodded and watched the young turn away. She walked toward a large rucksack, when Regina called to her, "Why should I trust you? A complete stranger who's been stalking us for days?"

"Do you have anything other options?" she asked. "Besides leaving her behind or staying here until she dies? Because she will, without proper medicine, she will die."

The young woman was right. What other options did she have? Her alternatives were wearing thin, and the way she saw it, she had two choices: bid the stranger away and make the journey herself in which the likelihood of Emma perishing was far greater, or take a chance on this strange girl in these strange lands and hope for the best outcome. Yes, in her mind the latter was definitely the best decision. But Regina was still on alert—cautious.

"Can I trust your people not to harm us? Or hinder us from our task?"

"Despite what you may believe and what you've been told, my people are not the ones you need to concern yourself with. We are good people that were fortunate to escape our bounds. We live freely with ill-will toward no one."

"Will they truly be able to heal her?"

The young girl knelt and placed a rough and calloused palm over her head. She continued to examine her, removing her now soiled wrappings and inspecting her festered wounds. "A ravencat?" she asked. Her suspicions were confirmed at Regina's nod. "Ravencats have a toxic bite. The venom is in their saliva. It prevents one from healing thus causing infections, fever. But it always seems to take several days to show. I'm surprised she's lasted this long. Either she's a fortunate fool, or you know your herbs. She has a strong fever. Easily treatable with the right medicine, but deadly in a place like this. She needs some antibiotics, rest, and some of our best herbal medicine. She'll be fine once we get into the village."

"I will do anything it takes to help her. Take us to your village. Make her well again."

The young girl nodded. A pleased smile brightened her soiled face.

"My name's Kaleisha," the young woman spoke as she paused and outstretched her hand as a form of greeting.

Regina happily took the offered hand. "Regina and her name is Emma."

Kaleisha left to retrieve her horse which she had tied a short distance from the makeshift camp. Regina began gathering what supplies they had while Kaleisha went to work constructing a travois. It would greatly aid in transporting Emma across the land. She had built so many it came as second nature to her.

They disassembled the camp and packed up their supplies in silence.

"Where are you from?" Regina finally asked as she tightened the straps holding their items in place.

"I'm from the Prospect Tribe. We're on the lands between the western and southern edge. I was coming from a northern tribe when I came across you two."

"I meant Realm," Regina amended. "What Realm are you from?"

"I have no Realm. I was born here, on these lands. My mother was of White, though, and my father of Gray."

"How long have you and your people lived here in these lands?"

"Since I was born; nearly seventeen years ago. My parents had lived here for two years before my birth. Before that, I know nothing of our heritage or history here … just simply this is home."

They secured what supplies they had to their horses and strapped Emma to her posts on the travois. Kaleisha had a large, thick leather skin that she had used as a bedroll and put it under Emma for comfort and padding against the rough frame. It would be slow travel, but faster, more productive, and less taxing than moving a wounded by foot. This was just another leg in their seemly impossible journey.

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**Again, thanks to all those who take the time to leave feedback. It gives me an idea of what I'm doing right, wrong, or where I need to improve. It is a great gift and is appreciated. :)**


	17. Chapter XIV – The Red Forest

**AN: Shortest chapter so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. :) As always, thanks for all the reviews and alerts!  
**

**No beta so all mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer****: See first chapter. **

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**Chapter XIV – The Red Forest**

"How much further?" Regina asked as she twisted less than gracefully in the saddle, trying to alleviate the tension in her back as several loud 'pops' and 'cracks' were heard, and also trying to wake the painful numbness in her legs. Her body ached from the long days of walking and now the unrelenting time in the saddle. Her entire being was worn down and fatigued.

As Regina attempted to discreetly fidget within her saddle, she failed to notice Kaleisha, who was a few paces in front of her, stop dead at the top of the incline. Regina brushed a few wayward strands of hair from out of her eyes and urged Trysu to move quicker. Within a few seconds, she stood beside her young guide and soon understood why she had stopped. "Oh my," she breathed as her eyes took in the sights before her, "Gods, it is beautiful."

Kaleisha hummed in approval as her eyes brightened and a gleeful smile spread across her face. She took a deep breath as the winds from the valley below whipped up, and teasingly beckoned them forward into the lush green below. "We call it the red forest. This village is known as the city within the trees."

"Why the red forest?"

"We build our homes against the giant red cedar trees. They provide so much for us. This was one of the founding tribes, you know. Everything we know now started from here. The trees provided us shelter and materials and the land gave us water and food. What better place to start."

The entrance to the village was lined with giant cedar trees that seemed to stretch for miles. They were still just over a league from the village, so close Regina yearned to cry in relief because this was as least something—a goal. An end to one part of their journey—hopefully the worst, and the beginning of yet another simpler prospect.

Regina inhaled the fresh, warm revitalizing scent of the evergreen forest. Life—that was the first thought that came to mind as the smells wafted against her face and filtered through her nose. This forest thrived with glorious life.

The sound of Kaleisha clicking her tongue as she urged her horse forward broke Regina from her trance. She took one last glimpse of the new world she would soon discover. A new world in her mind at least. A world not of the realms.

The young girl had already started her decent, Regina just a few paces behind when a horrendous noise sounded off in the distance behind them. Kaleisha jerked in her saddle and peered off into the darkened shroud of the forest. Her gaze flitted across the horizon.

"Nightwalkers," she whispered. Apparently, their name held no significance to their waking hours. She dismounted with frantic haste as she ran over to Trysu and began untying Emma from her support, eventually cutting the ties with a blade. "You'll have to hold her the rest of the way," she said as she helped Regina lift her into the saddle. "They'll gain on us too fast if this is trailing behind you. No matter what happens, keep on the path between the trees and don't stop until you pass the entrance of the village." She turned back around and withdrew a peculiar yet familiar arrow from her arrow bag. "Go!"

And Regina went, as fast as she dared travel with an unconscious woman in her arms. When she chanced a glance back, she spotted Kaleisha trailing a good distance back with a group of nightwalkers at her haunches. And both friend and foe gained on Regina quickly.

She finally reached the line of trees and they passed in a blur as she rode closer and closer to the clearing ahead. But as she drew nearer, the pack behind her did too. The snarls and screeches turn her blood cold and she heard an occasional scream and thump from where Kaleisha shot one with her bow. Then, the screams became more frequent and she realized the archers posted up within the trees themselves, covered expertly by their natural camouflage. They picked off the beasts one by one.

After what felt like ages had passed, both she and Emma broke the line, and were soon followed by their young guide.

To Regina's surprise and relief, the people greeted them without hesitation. She knew Kaleisha's presence made the utmost difference, but she couldn't help but be thankful. Kaleisha called for the village doctor, and soon several people stood at Emma's side as they hoisted her to a spare blanket and whisked her off to small wooden house.

The commotion was unsettling to Regina who hadn't been around so many people in many, many years. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her breathing along with it. Her gaze darted every which way, trying to find an escape route. A cold sweat gathered at her brow, and just as she considered fleeing the chaos, a warm hand grasped her own. Kaleisha smiled at her in reassurance as she led her through the small gathering and into a small hut.

"Gran is lookin' after her right now," the young girl said as she pulled two chairs from under the table. Regina sat and watched as Kaleisha milled through a couple draws and cabinets until she pulled out two tankards, a dented flask, and a basket of something that resembled bread. "She'll be all right, but she was as close to death as I've ever seen. Gran said the same."

"But she will live?" Regina asked as a Kaleisha filled her tankard with honeymint.

"By morning she'll be a new person. I'll take you over there as soon as they're done. The room can get cramped, and Gran gets cranky when that happens."

Kaleisha sat down in front of Regina at the small table and plucked a piece of bread from the basket offering the older woman some in return. It was old and stale, but tasted delicious.

"So, you asked me where I was from … but the whole trip you ignored my one question. What about you?"

Regina chewed slowly, contemplating her words with care. "I am from the Black."

Kaleisha just smiled, like the answer didn't faze her at all. She took a sip of honeymint before she then asked, "Were you born there or …" The question left open, because only two possibilities honestly existed, and Kaleisha had quickly learned that one was more painful than the other. To be born exhibited one thing, but to be accused, tried, and banished, well, that was something entirely different.

"Yes." Regina answered quickly. "My mother was banished from the White during her pregnancy with me. I have lived there since."

The young girl's brows furrowed. "Why? I mean … why not ask for a pardon? The unbanished are generally granted more clemency—understanding. I mean—I've heard it's still difficult, but … why not vie for the Gray or even the White?"

Regina released a mirthless laugh. "I was never welcomed at the other realms."

"Why?"

She took a deep breath fully realizing her next words could cause more damage than good. These people left their realms for many reasons, and Regina was positive she was to blame for the vast majority of them. What group of free people would house one of the very people who oppressed them? Bound them to unlivable conditions and harsh realities? No sound person would allow her to remain under the same roof let alone the same village. She knew nothing of their life. For all she knew, her words could land both her and Emma at the mercy of these people. They could easily be hanged or bludgeoned to death.

"Because I was the daughter of Cora, and at her death, became Queen myself."

Kaleisha was thunderstruck; her eyes wide and mouth agape. "Your—you're Regina, fallen Queen of the Black … The Evil Queen."

"That is correct."

"You were imprisoned, were you not?"

"I was, yes. For eight years. Serving a life sentence." Regina said. She took note of the young girl's expression and quickly tried to make amends. "Rest assured, you and your people are in no danger from me. I simply wish to right this wrong that I had a hand in creating. After that, I do not know what will become of me … but I am not a threat. That time has long since passed."

"What about the young woman with you … Emma?"

"I have known Emma since she was a child. We were the best of friends before my duties took priority. She moved to the Gray and I stayed behind in the Black—became Queen. It seems as if our lives are intertwined—destined to remain connected. I fear to her detriment."

"She would not stand for them to harm you, you know."

Regina laughed mirthlessly. "She may not have a choice in the matter I'm afraid. I am left to their mercy … and for people like me there is no justice grand enough to pardon my crimes."

"Well, they must trust you enough to venture out here … to help them. You're an ally."

"They are using me to save lives, dear. Once that task is completed, I will still be labeled a dangerous threat. A threat no one will want to contend with. I'll either be imprisoned yet again, or killed. It is as simple as that. And Miss Swan—_Emma _will have no authority over that decision."

Kaleisha regarded her sadly. "You should have faith in your people. They recognize those who do a great service for them."

"That might be true here, but injustice is just as prominent as justice in the three."

"Well, perhaps you might consider an offer to live here. You'd be free. Emma too. A refuge, if you will."

Regina stared, flabbergasted at the implication. Someone was offering her amity. A place—a home to live freely, to live happily. The thought seemed outlandish; something she never considered to be a viable option before. Her heart swelled with the prospect.

She felt something tickle her cheek, but to her surprise, discovered a tear. Wiping it away with haste, she turned her head to peer outside one of the small window cutouts; a move of deflection. Too few souls ever saw her cry. It was a personal moment, and a part of her wished the young girl was not there to witness it.

Instead, her eyes drifted across the minuscule glimpse the window provided of the world outside. The window faced out into the forest. Not much was seen, not like it would have had she looked out a front facing window. There she would have seen just who full of life this little community was. But instead of seeing emptiness, she saw life within the trees, leaves, wildlife, even the moving air. But above all, she saw freedom. Uninhibited life. A chance to live out her dreams.

It was all too good to be true.

"Why are you so quick to offer aid to a stranger known for her misdeeds? What makes you think your people share your enthusiasm?" she asked, trying her best to mask her heavy voice.

Kaleisha smiled, and to a degree it was unnerving. "I'll show you," she whispered.

She rose from her seat and left the hut, leaving Regina with a sense of dread, yet anticipation.

Only a few moments passed before an older woman and a young boy no more than ten walked through the open door. They bowed to her and Regina stood immediately, caught off guard with the action. She didn't recognize them, but something told her their presence held significance. She studied them in silence, waiting for them to make some type of move.

"Kaleisha told us who you were—that you were here. We were residents of the Black. Made our home in the Alley of Fue … not too far from your infirmary."

Regina's eyes narrowed as she tried to put meaning to the woman's words. "My husband … my son and I came down with a deathly illness. We needed medicine but couldn't afford any. H—he never returned with our medicine that night. Yet somehow, my son and I both lived. I never knew why, until I heard an unbelievable rumor that you had sent help. The feared and heartless Evil Queen helped a peasant family live. We left shortly after your sentencing and have never returned. You saved us, Majesty, and everyone here knows of your deed."

The fallen queen remained silent as she stared at her visitors. "I—" she began, recollection of the event coming back to her in pieces. She had never kept track of her sentences or people the in which suffered her punishments. But a face, vague as it seemed, slowly began to form. Sadly, she couldn't even recall the man's eventually fate. He probably died within her cells, almost a guarantee. "Your husband?" she asked, hoping for clarification.

"He died as we were escaping. He always mourned the loss of his hands, but once it was told that the medicine he looked to bring back never would have fully cured us, it was a loss he gladly bared until his death."

They spoke for awhile as the woman told Regina of their struggles within the Black and their journey across the forbidden lands fraught with dangers. She spoke of their community and the other villages scattered throughout the hollows. The young boy even told tales of his adventures. Regina didn't know how long they had talked, until Kaleisha returned with news of Emma.

After her visitors left, she felt both emotionally and physically spent. What an eventful and chaotic day it had proved to be. So much had been revealed, most shocking and incomprehensible. Her mind raced as it tried to process it all. In a way, she felt betrayed, dumbstruck. All of this was happening right under her nose—everyone's nose. An underground operation. And it had been happening for at least nineteen years, but she knew it had been longer than that.

She shook her head in agony. If she had known—if Emma had known. They could have fled the Black together—_all of them:_ Emma, Mary Margaret, Danny, and herself. She closed her eyes as tears began to form. Oh, how her life might have been different. Better. Happy. She almost couldn't even imagine such joy. The thought of having a true family, if they would have allowed her stay, that is, felt overwhelming. But alas, it fell in the past, and it would never be, and as dangerous as it was to dwell on such things, she couldn't help it. It was human nature.

She finally stood and walked to the small home in which Emma resided. The homes—buildings themselves were breathtaking. Small, quaint, and built of the same trees they thrived on. Thatched roofs completed the rustic look. Nature and humans coexisting in the most magnificence of ways; residing harmoniously, only taking what land and nature provided. The homes themselves were small and built in a spiraling motion with wooden planks leading to each level. Rope bridges connected the upper levels to other trees or houses. It really was a community within the trees.

But the sight and air enveloping her did little in easing her active mind. She entered through a heavy cloth door and her gaze immediately landed on the prone figure nestled under the covers of a straw mattress. Color filled her once pale face and the few wounds she could see were now cleaned and rewrapped. She sighed in relief and closed her eyes while grasping a cool hand within her own. She sat down on a nearby stool and her fingers began to trace the various sized scars that rose from Emma's skin, the most prominent on her palm and back of her hand.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her as she leaned over, hand still clasping its mate, and rested her head on the extra space beside Emma. Maybe she could have a peaceful rest for once in many a night.


	18. Chapter XV - Truths (Part 1)

**AN: Okay guys, so just a quick note. After this chapter, I have 5 more chapters already pre-written and ready to go, but I have about 5-7 more chapters left to write. Generally (in the past) I've had updates for newly written chapters ready to post within a week, and my goal, once these next 5 pre-written chapters are posted, is that I can get one chapter updated once a week. So all that being said, I will probably start posting every other day and break my longer chapters down into two separate chapters so you guys aren't waiting too long for updates. Hope that's not too confusing. **

**Thanks to all those who are still reading this story. I hope you have enjoyed it so far, and I hope you continue to read and enjoy. :)  
**

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**Chapter XV - Truths at Every Corner (Part 1)**

A harsh whimper woke Regina from her dreamless state. She must have been sleeping deeply because she woke disoriented, eyes blurry and unfocused, her movements delayed. The hand she had fallen asleep clutching, twisted in her loose grasp. Loud, desperate mumbles broke the stillness of the night. Emma was trembling in the bed, covered in her own sweat, and jerking violently.

"Emma," she called softly at first; her calls then grew exponentially at each passing moment Emma's eyes did not open. Her small tan hands reached up and cupped Emma's cheeks followed by her shoulders as she tried her damnedest to bring Emma back to her.

After several unsuccessful attempts to rouse her from her sleep, Regina ran to find Kaleisha. The moon shined bright outside the home. It was late in the evening, and where many villagers had already secured their homes for the night, it was still early enough for the torches and rush lights to remain lit. In her panic, she couldn't for the life of her remember where Kaleisha stayed, where to find her. So in her desperation, she ran to the first person she saw and without hesitation, they led her to Kaleisha's home.

As she ran, Regina mentally berated herself for not going straight to the herbalist or village physician. Of course, it would prove counterproductive if she went to them now. Maybe Kaleisha would call for them on their way back to the hut, but just in the little time she had spent with the feisty young girl, Regina believed she would know exactly what to do, no guidance needed.

And sure enough, after Kaleisha looked her over, she understood the problem. Regina had been relieved Emma had stopped her thrashing. At least she was now resting somewhat peacefully.

"The medicine they gave her was strong," the young girl concluded. "It can cause hallucinations in its most weak forms. She'll be all right, though. The infection was overwhelming her body. They had no choice but to give her a stronger dose. I can call one of them if it'd make you feel better?"

Regina shook her head as she waved her hand, dismissing the idea. "Right, no I understand. I was just …" she tapered off, but Kaleisha understood the reference.

"You were scared," she said gently. Her tone held no judgment. "It's all right here, Regina. Even the dreaded fallen Queen of Black has a right to fear. You're human, after all."

Regina sighed; the sound was thunderous in the small, still room, yet she remained silent as she approached Emma's bedside, took her seat, and resumed her position from earlier in the evening. Her fingers whispered across an unmoving hand. "I am most accustomed to fear, dear. I have held its burden for many years … I am just merely mindful of who sees it. Such knowledge is invaluable to those whose seek it."

"Well, they'd have no use for such here." She went to leave, but turned to address Regina once more. She couldn't help but smile at the scene in front of her. In the days she had spent tracking and observing the two women, she had seen the love and care they devoted to each other, especially Regina. But now, since she gained knowledge of Regina's true identity, she can't help but look at her as a queen; a seemingly powerful and dark queen mourning the illness of her love. There was vulnerability there, and that made her even more human—more enthralling. "She should be fine by morning—alert, responsive," she said over her shoulder.

"Thank you. Sorry to have woken you, however."

"Don't be sorry. Come get me again should you need me."

But no more than Kaleisha had walked out of the hut, Regina succumbed to her lingering exhaustion.

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Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the bright light streaming inside from the numerous windows. The abrasive light overwhelming her sense of sight meant only one thing, and that even in her grogginess, she determined morning was in full swing. But that was not the only thing that came to mind. The cloth door had been opened, which meant someone had been by earlier, and the hands brushing through her hair caused her pause.

She sat up and found bright emerald eyes staring into her own. A soft smile even formed across her now full colored cheeks.

"You're awake," Regina said. It came out in a long breath, a sigh of elation—relief. "How are you feeling?" Regina asked as she brushed damp strands of dark hair from her love's face.

"Better." She went to move, to sit up, but her face twisted in pain and a labored groan left her chest. A sharp, burning sting ripped from her legs all the way to her head. The intensity forced tears from her eyes and seized the breath from her lungs. "What happened to me?" she asked between breaths.

"Shh, just rest, love. You have been very sick."

Emma's eyes seemed to soften even more, perhaps becoming more focused than before at the term of endearment. She had heard Regina call her that once before, but couldn't quite remember when or in what context it had been used. Everything seemed a blur. "I remember some things," she said. "Very vague, though. Where are we?"

"I do not think you would believe me if I told you."

She attempted to sit up again, but was met with a similar reaction, only this time, little dots of crimson began to show through her white linen shift. They had been too small to wrap, but big enough to require sutures.

"Do not try to sit up; you will aggravate your wounds further."

Emma stopped and settled back against the pillow and bed. That's when it finally occurred to her. She was lying on a bed, her wounds obviously tended to. She looked around but failed to recognize the design or interior of the home. This was different from anything she had ever seen in any of the other realms. When the panic didn't wear off, her fearful gaze found and settled on Regina.

"Regina?" Her voice quivered the unasked question evident in her tone.

Regina sat still. She bowed her head, unable to look at the young woman's panicked expression any longer. Instead, she reached out and took delicate, yet strong fingers within her own. "Do you remember when we found the nightwalkers? One had been shot by an arrow?"

Vaguely, yes. She nodded.

"And the first human body we came upon?"

She nodded again.

"These lands are inhabited by refugees of the three realms."

"What? Then how …" The questioned died off her tongue as she was struck silent.

"It's unbelievable. There are hundreds of tribes just like this one around the hollows. They have names, districts, leaders … all this"—she motioned around the room, alluding to the whole around them—"is what lies outside The Realms of Thrice. No wonder there was a panic. If you just sit and watch these people … it's surreal. The way they live and operate. It is like another world out here. We came upon a young woman while you were gravely ill. She led us here so you could be cared for. Her name is Kaleisha. But here is the most fascinating part. She was born here … not in any realm. She's a dweller of the hollows. No realm to call home. This, all this, is her home. Her parents were of the White and Gray." She stopped to allow her words to seep in, take effect, and sure enough, within seconds, a brief flitter of anxiety crossed her face. "I think our situation has become more complicated."

"Wow."

"Here, you should go ahead and drink this. It will help promote healing … and the pain as well."

"What is it?"

"Milk of some kind, infused with various herbs and medicine, all of which I know naught of."

Then, a three knocks sounded against the threshold of the door. Their rescuer stood proud, her eyes elated and grinning ear to ear. "It's woodland ox's milk, infused with poppy, willow bark, and essence of the vine," she said from the door, not yet entering.

"Emma, this is Kaleisha. She is the very one who saved your life. I am resourceful, but even I could not have pulled everything together to save you. You owe your life to her."

The young girl took this opportunity to approach the bed and placed a hand on Emma's shoulder as she shook her uninjured hand.

"I'm glad to see you well and alert. Not many survive a ravencat's attack. The venom in their saliva and claws is potent enough for us to use it as poison concentrate in our weapons." Emma looked at her curiously. "It can take down a fully grown stag-moose. Perfect for hunting because it doesn't taint the meat, but if an attack victim is left untreated, it's fatal."

"How long 'til we can leave?" Emma asked.

Kaleisha shrugged her shoulders as she spoke, "Soon as your strength has returned. No more than a few days I'd say."

"Thank you, Kaleisha. For all you've done. You've done a great service not only for me, but for the kingdoms as well … and I'm eternally grateful to you."

"I'm just glad we were able to help. Had I not found both of you …" She didn't her thought, but all three knew and understood what she implied. "Anyway, that drink will relax you, make you sleepy. You should rest, your body needs it." With a parting smile and hand wave, she left.

Regina had a thought as Emma lay awake, the medicine yet to take effect. She went to her satchel and removed something covered in cloth. Regina handed it to her, and she slowly began lifting the layers. As soon as the smell hit her, she laughed out loud. "Grimish Seed bread! Ugh, Gods," she exclaimed as she looked at the disgustingly black and purple slice. It's a wonder this putrid bread had any benefits at all. By the look and smell, one would think it took lives instead of saved them. "You saved some," she said with an appreciative grin as she took a hesitant bite.

"Like you, love, I too can be resourceful." Regina spoke and had to stifle a chuckle as Emma's face contorted into one of appall and nausea.

Oh, it tasted awful. The rotten flavor covered one's tongue, coating the palate in a thick glaze of disgusting oil and grime, but she muscled through it. As she swallowed, her face pinched together and her body shook at the acrid flavor.

"That's the third time I've heard you call me that," Emma said between bites, trying not to think at about chewing. Thankfully, the taste improved, or better yet, she grew more accustomed to it as she ate.

"Oh, I didn't—does it bother you?"

"Course not! Why should it?"

Regina didn't answer, but Emma took hold of her hands for added reassurance.

"I shouldn't use it all," she eventually said as she eyed about three-fourths of the slice. "We still have a ways in front of us. We might need it."

"The Gray is just a few days ride from here. You need to eat this now if we wish to leave soon. It's almost over, Emma. The hardest part has passed."

She hummed in agreement as her eyes became heavy. She ate the rest though.

"You should rest."

And she did, finally falling into what seemed like a peaceful slumber. Regina wished she could follow her, both figuratively and literally. She yearned to climb in behind her and hold her close. With their size difference, it would appear awkward, but she knew it would feel nothing like that. Sometimes the protector needed protecting of their own. Comfort, support, and love would always fuel the strongest of bonds. But alas, the bed would only fit one comfortably. So she scooted her chair closer, already feeling the comforting warmth of her love and the softness of the mattress beneath them.

Sleep, what a wonderful thought.

But that thought vanished from her when someone, a man, called out her name from inside the room. It startled her. She had assumed they had been alone. The man's voice was soft and melodious—instantly recognizable, as he spoke her name with reverence. It had been so long since she last heard his voice.

Henry.

But her body would not allow her to face him.

"Regina," he spoke in a whisper.

The man speaking her name sent a chill down her spine. He made her feel uneasy, and she couldn't quite place why. She responded with an equally quiet, "Father."

She heard his faint footfalls against the packed dirt floor. They sounded gentle and soft in their approach—nonthreatening. The soft sweep of his robe fluttered with each step. The gold bracelets, she presumed, clinked against the other as she imagined him clasping them together in front.

"I assume you know why it is I'm here. We need to talk."

He drew closer and she felt the slightest of pressure against her shoulder. "So speak," she said. It came out harsh, but he did not seem a bit deterred.

"No, not here. Come with me." He went to take her hand, but she stood and jerked her hand away. Her face screamed red and the small veins that ran near her temple and across her forehead rose in affirmation.

"I will not leave!"

"I guarantee your return here." He spoke vehemently as if trying to persuade her of an untruth. The feeling didn't settle well, but he was her father, and she trusted him, just like she had loved and trusted her mother regardless of all the evils she had put her through. Curse the complicated relationship between child and parent. "You will not be held against your will." He then stepped toward and whispered into her ear. "I'm not going to stop you, Regina. Please, for once, trust me."

"Where will we be going?"

"Not to the Realms, if that's what you're wondering."

He took both her hands in his own. The receptors adorning both their wrists began to glow and Regina felt a sting of heat and flash of pain before they disappeared from the small hut, green eyes watching them the entire time.


	19. Chapter XV - Truths (Part 2)

**AN: Okay, so just to clarify what all happened last chapter: Henry, like only a select few, knows how to transcend freely like Emma. But because he is in on the plot with Cora, he knows and understands the risks associated with transcendence in a way Emma or Regina does not. In this chapter, you'll find out why he was able to locate her as easily as he did. **

**Also, this is huge chapter and significant developments take place. I hope I did them justice. As always I appreciate the support I have gotten for this story. I hope I don't disappoint. :)**

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**Chapter XV - Truths at Every Corner (Part 2)**

Regina didn't recognize the place where they transcended. She knew they stood within the same grounds as the village because the red cedars towered above them. That gave her some peace of mind. But as soon as her vertigo settled, reality smacked her square in the face. They had just transcended, in a place she thought had been impossible, during a time she had said was impossible. It _should_ have been impossible, right? Everything both she and Emma had experienced and discovered should have been impossible.

However, the ache which had settled at her hands, made her understand that there was something unbalanced with the transcendence. Her wrists were red and bleeding.

She heard her father turn to begin walking toward her. "I'm sure you're—"

"WHAT DID YOU KNOW OF THIS?!" she screamed as she rounded on her father with a fierce fire blazing within her crimson eyes.

"My Queen—"

Regina saw red. "Do not _dare_ address me as such! You are the very one who condemned me to those putrid walls and iron bars! You watched as they beat me! Humiliated me! You watched my own blood and flesh—YOUR OWN BLOOD AND FLESH—be ripped from my body! I am your daughter! And you watched them torture me!"

"As you wish," he said, trying to pacify the volatile situation

"You truly have nothing else to say to me?" Her eyes were as sharp and dangerous as he had ever seen them—murderous. The same look she held during her short reign. Now he understood with complete certainty why she was feared so. The hostility dripped like poison from her words. The hatred felt palpable in the crackling air—wicking the moisture from his body.

He wanted to say something. Anything to ease the unbearable tension.

"Tell me what you knew of this," she spoke lowly and full of rage.

"What do you wish me to say?"

'The truth!"

"Your mother and I plotted this as soon as the leaks were known. For millennia, the realm's boundaries were kept well guarded and secured. Death was a certainty if one was caught trying to cross the boundary. They were killed on site; do you not think this was deterrent enough to keep people in line? It wasn't. With the explicit need to keep the realms pure, both the white and the black decided to take action. We would not allow the realms to merge. So when your mother and I discovered groups of humans scattered about the hollowed lands, we knew it was only a matter of time. Subsequently, I had your mother cast the enchantment that would cause the portals to activate once a specific number of humans crossed the boundaries."

"Why would you do such a thing? Kill all, just to keep the realms pure."

"My dearest Regina … do you honestly believe it was only to keep the realms pure? Your mother desired power and control so much, she was willing to sacrifice everyone, including herself and her daughter just so she would not lose grasp on her kingdom. She would rather die a Queen than to die a mere mortal with no standing. Do you think, once people found out about the boundary and the other realms within reach, that they would have stayed in the Black? Where conditions are deplorable at best? No, they'd flee and she would be reduced to nothing. Not only that, but the White would then have to contend with impures? And who wants to deal with that, hm?"

His lips thinned as he spoke, "I never told you this, and I've debated whether this knowledge would truly do you any benefit at all, but I must tell you, for both our sakes. You think ill of me for allowing such a woman to manipulate me to do as she wishes. But I wish you wouldn't. Unlike your mother, I honestly do care about you. If I'd had a choice about sending you away, I wouldn't have. But your mother, already being consumed with lust, and rage wouldn't have allowed me such right. If the portal had not been granted, she would have killed you. The portal required a living sacrifice. A sacrifice, that, in the end, she made for herself. She knew the kingdom would be passed to you, and she would die as a Queen to be remembered and feared," he said; careful to only reveal so much. His daughter didn't need to know Cora lived.

"She would not have given up that easily. Sacrificing herself—her kingdom, only for it to be given to me, a daughter she couldn't even stand to look at? I think not, Father. But thank you for painting a pretty lie for me."

"Your mother had not always been the cruel and heartless woman that everyone knew and loathed. In the beginning, she was as loving of a wife, daughter, and mother that any human could have asked for. But her downfall came at a massive price. I never fully understood what made her turn to the woman she became, but it wasn't immediate. It happened over a few years time. The worst was when she became pregnant with you. I may be of White blood, but I don't entirely believe in our ways. I have a daughter that was born of White blood, but in a dark world to a dark mother. I see you now … the woman you were and the woman you've become. And I can't stand here and say that your heart is any less pure than mine. You are my daughter and I see _all_ of you. Your faults and your strengths. Your mother may have caused doubt within you, never to be pleased with you. But you, my daughter, have made me so proud. You've made mistakes, but you've paid for them dearly."

He stopped and watched his strong-willed daughter's lips tremble; her face pained. For a second, it broke his heart. He cleared his throat and continued.

"I will not stop you from closing the portal, but just know I don't know what lies beyond it. Death is certain, but beyond that … I do not know. Your mother was capable of great things."

"She planned this all along, then. My life …" Her voice just tethered on control, but it was slipping rapidly. "I was merely a tool—to be used whenever it gave her benefit. Even my short reign as Empress … and the imprisonment?"

She thinks of all the time lost. Everything her mother stole from her.

"I'm so sorry, Reg—"

"Yet once again, and for the _last_ time … I will die for her … because of her selfishness, I will pay the ultimate price. I, who have always suffered and sacrificed to her pleasure, will finally lose everything … _everything_ to her."

Her words affected him greatly. Tears prickled beneath his eyelids as he watched and heard his own daughter's agonizing heartbreak. This was misfortune at the greatest of levels. A young woman starved of life, love, happiness, and when she finally has the opportunity to have it. To finally _live_, it will be ripped from her fingers.

Emma ruined her. Emma ruined his one and only daughter by showing her the prospect of a life she would never see.

"I am sorry I brought this life upon you," he said with as much remorse as he could muster.

But Regina saw beyond his facade. She waved him off dismissively. "It is done," she said evenly. "But perhaps, the gods willing, my name will finally be cleared."

"Regina—"

"Goodbye, Father."

And whether it was by his doing or her own she fell violently into nothingness, and it was only when she arrived back at the small room she and Emma shared, that panic settled in. Emma stood at the foot of the bed, glaring, and dressed for what was to come. The look of hurt, betrayal, confusion, and disappointment settled within her molten green depths.

"I should have known …" Emma whispered. Her gaze was hard and her words even harsher.

"Emma—"

"DON'T! How long?!" she demanded as the blood raced to her face.

"Wha—"

Regina flinched as she heard something heavy shatter against the wooden wall. "How long have you been playing me for a fool?! Plotting behind my back like the ignorant underling I am?! Your mother would undoubtedly be proud."

Once again Regina flinched, but this time at the vicious words aimed at her. "Plotting what, Emma? I have plotted nothing!"

"But you have! Otherwise, you would have told me about you being capable of transcending just like me. Deny it!"

Regina wanted to deny it, because it had not been her. She didn't know how to transcend, that had been all her father's doing. But as she went to speak—to defend herself, she was cutoff. "I—"

"Is this a trap? I'm I being led into a trap? Was this all some elaborate plan to get me alone out here and kill me … or use me to some advantage?"

"Don't be stupid," she spoke forcefully, her body language supporting her authority. She wanted Emma to see the truth behind her words. She didn't want her to sense any doubt.

"I knew of some things," Regina whispered. "But there is no plot or game here, Emma. My—my father … he came here to see me. I went with him to talk, because after all we have seen … I had to _know_, and he could provide answers."

Wait … what? Emma had always assumed Regina's father died shortly after her birth and during his reign, which was why Cora became Empress, followed by Regina. Most in the kingdoms believed this, too.

"Your … your father? He's dead."

Regina shook her head. "My biological father—Henry."

"Of the White? The Superior Council Member? He's your father? What else have you not told me?! Everything … me and you … everything you've said, everything we've talked about … was all a lie?"

"No—"

"Oh no! Of course not! You've just sat here and play me for a gods damned fool!"

"I have done no such thing—"

"YOU'RE LYING! Gods!" she said, exasperation weighing her words down. "Tell me the truth!"

"You want the truth? You want the truth! Well, here it is, _Miss Swan_. _Nothing_ that has transpired between us has been of falsehood. _Nothing_. Yes, I have developed strong feelings for you. Feelings that had always been there but were carefully hidden, locked away under watch and key. I meant every word I've ever uttered to you, but what you don't seem to understand, or ever will understand, is that I am my past. I have to live with my history each and every day, never forgiven for my transgressions, nor will I ever be. I am a tortured soul, never to see happiness, and I know if I tell you everything …" she started, but to her horror, her voice cracked, ultimately showing the cracks in her resolve as well. "Everything that matters … you will not see me the same way. And I've come too far to allow my past to interfere anymore than it has too. I'm so tired of running from it." Exhaustion overwhelmed her as she sank down to the hard floor. She buried her face in her trembling hands.

Emma, despite her anger, saw the struggle within Regina's eyes. Her pained expression spoke volumes in itself. She found her own resolve weakening. Her anger dissipating as quickly as it had risen. But her stomach knotted as she saw hands covered and dripping with fresh and clotted blood. Sure enough transcendence had turned dangerous, ripe with instability, just like Regina had predicted. The sheer unbalance in the energy force quite literally could pull someone apart. It took all of her willpower not to kneel next to her and doctor her wounds. But she was still hurt.

Regina didn't even feel the pain anymore.

"I need you to be honest with me, Regina. Please give me that," she pleaded as she gave into her desires and knelt in front of her, taking her hands within her own and lowering them from her face. Emma gasped at how small she looked then. The insurmountable grief radiated from her; to not have felt it would have been inhuman. Streaks and smudges of blood covered her tear-stained and reddened skin. A person once seen invincible, now laid at her most broken, most vulnerable. Emma ached for her, not out of pity, but out of empathy, compassion. She yearned to ease her agony, to release her of her burdens. "Please, it may lift a heavy burden from you. To finally speak of your long-time troubles. What you encountered in life. I won't judge you, Regina. Because I have a past as well, and you know it wasn't glamorous."

"I've killed people, Emma. Innocent people just for the sake and illusion of control. To make my mother happy. To make me numb and oblivious to my pain. It was like, when I looked at them and saw their fear, my own came to the surface, but as soon as their life ended and that fear along with them, mine did as well."

"I know all that, Regina. We've talked about that many times, and I know that's not what's troubling you." They had spoken numerous times of Regina's killings, but this was something else. Something greater.

Their silence was palpable, yet both patiently waited for the silence to break, but Regina knew it relied on her.

Her eyes remained focused on the wall parallel to them. Her gaze fell on anything but Emma. She couldn't watch—couldn't see the look of absolute and complete anguish that she would undoubtedly see when spoke her truth. She knew this time speaking the truth would not be freeing, it would be condemning, and she wanted to wait as long as possible; to hold on to what modicum of happiness and contentment she still retained. "I know who killed your family, Emma."

Of all the things Emma expected to hear, this had not been one of them. "My—what? You—"

"My mother ordered their deaths." She said evenly, trying to keep her voice empty of anything. She had practiced this line … this discussion so many times, it no longer affected her.

"Wh—what are you talking about?"

"Two days before your family was murdered, my mother presented me with an ultimatum. She saw you as a threat to me. She too often spoke of emotion being a weakness. She had always read my emotions well, you see. But the ultimatum was either you and your family would be killed with mercy, gently, and with as least pain as possible, or … you would be beaten, tortured, and released into the dark forest where a hunting party would hunt you down and brutally massacre you all. She told me in sick and vivid detail everything she would do to you, your mother, and brother. But the condition was … the mercy killing would have to be by …"

"What?" she began, panic flooded her face as all color washed from it. "Regina? Tell me!"

"By my hands!" she screamed. The impact of the words was both instant and detrimental, blasting both women with such dolor it made them physically ill.

Emma's breathing turned erratic as she stared at Regina with an unnatural look. Her gaze never tore from the woman in front of her yet she shook her violently. She ripped herself apart from Regina and stood so quickly, the room spun, her ears rang, and her vision whitened. With unsteady feet, she paced before heading toward the door.

"But I couldn't! Don't you see! They were the only family I knew! The first chance I had at happiness. You, your mother, and Danny … I loved you all so much—with every ounce of my tainted heart. For once I felt like I was part of a loving family. And I couldn't see that through, despite my mother's orders. So, I refused her, and she carried out the killings. I never knew what happened, just that you had escaped."

"Wha—"

"Emma, _please_." Regina called out to her, desperate for her not to leave. It was a selfish plea though. How could she have expected anything else.

"Y–you knew this whole time? You knew how much I struggled! This whole time!"

"Please, Emma. There was no other way—"

"There is always another way!"

But Regina saw something building. She closed her eyes and willed everything to just disappear. To take everything back; make it the way it was. The younger woman's hands were shaking, and she knew what came next. So she waited; waited for the strike, the blow, the hand to close around her throat that would end everything.

But Emma's voice, so soft yet uncontrolled, tore through the thick air. "I have to …" She didn't finish, but her intentions were known as soon as she walked out the door.

Regina called out to her. A plea. "Emma? Emma, wait! Please!"

But she left without a parting word.

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**I know many of you had predictions on what might happen when the truth was finally revealed. When I originally wrote this chapter (and the whole concept of the story) I initially had Regina be the one who killed Emma's family. I went this route at first with the thought: What horrible, vile thing could have happened to Regina to completely break her the way it did. What could take a seemly innocent child and turn her into a woman people fear and loathe? **

**However, as I looked at it from a critical perspective, and with the help of others, I found that act would make her unredeemable (at least in my eyes) and in the eyes of Emma. It would have been an unforgivable act, despite her reasoning or forced hand. So, for the whole basis of the story, and her relationship with Emma, I decided to have her refuse Cora's orders. But, in Regina's eyes, just because her hands didn't play a part in the killings, she still carried and felt a tremendous burden. In her eyes, her very presence in Emma's life was what ultimately cost Emma's family their lives, thus changing Emma's as well. She felt responsible for all of Emma's hardships and that knowledge alone has hindered her to great proportions. **

**I hope I did that particular scene justice. Feel free to leave any comments. I would like to know what you guys think. **


	20. Chapter XVI - What I Regret

**AN: Thanks to all those who took the time to leave me feedback last chapter, it was greatly appreciated. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story. As always, thank you for reading, and for all the alerts and reviews. :)**

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**Chapter XVI - What I Regret**

Flames danced in her eyes as she sat still and watched the fire's life unfold within her hearth. The palace chamber felt heavy and cool—damp. A fierce storm raged outside, and her opened, recessed windows allowed for all the sensations to waft into the room. Her long, manicured nails tapped impatiently on her wooden arm rest and every so often, her beats would fall in tandem with the hollow splash of the rain drops. She had retired to her private chambers long ago, wishing to relieve herself of the mockery below, and to gain some modicum of privacy for the planned visitor. She smirked and chuckled soundlessly as her graceful fingers wrapped themselves around a sweated goblet. Primly, she raised it to her lips and took an elegant sip. Oh how she loved theatrics, and what setting would be more perfect and appropriate than an ominous, low-spirited day.

Her skin prickled as unsustainable static sliced through the dampness and the air within the room vanished for a fleeting moment. His eyes were upon her; she felt it.

"Well?" she greeted; straight to the point of things.

A cool wind swept over the exposed skin on her right side as he passed to sit next to her. "It's in motion. They're currently three days ride from the realm. So give it a few days. Then we'll be ready."

She nodded, but her eyes never left the fire. "I sense doubt," she reasoned as she glanced over to Henry. "Did something of importance take place during your reunion?"

He hoped he concealed his panic well. The last thing he needed was for Cora to discover his weak moment as his daughter stood vulnerable, concealing such pain. He should have seen such display as pathetic. Cora sure would have, and she would have condoned him for such pity. "No, my Queen."

"I could always tell when you were lying, same with my daughter." He remained silent. "Can I still trust you?" She then turned to him, her gaze harsh, trenchant, and he flinched. She read him with stark accuracy and that was unnerving. He pressed on, though. She could trust him. Nothing had changed except for his sudden realization of what could have been. But nothing could be done of it now; the past was the past, and that was a safe thought. "Of course. I'm completely invested with this."

"But?"

"Nothing," he quickly assured her. "I just …" he began, but stopped short and rose from his seat. He walked the short distance to the wine tray, fully aware of the eyes that had settled on him. He poured himself some wine and turned back toward her. "She would have been a great ruler if given the time."

Cora seemed to contemplate this notion for a brief moment. Her mouth turned down and her eyebrows rose as she pondered his words. But it wasn't a second later that she waved her hand dismissively. "She had too much compassion. I couldn't even remove it from her completely. But I will say, when punishment needed to be garnered, she went above and beyond necessity. She couldn't control that part of herself. Her cruelty at times rivaled my own, but I needed consistency, not someone who brandished an iron fist to please me then turn a delicate hand when she thought I wasn't watching. That is dangerous. People learn your weaknesses, then exploit them."

"She feared you. Only wanted to please you," he said between sips of the fine red wine.

"Precisely. That is no ruler. You have to think on your own. Banish other's thoughts and opinions. You are the leader of a kingdom, and you should rule it the way it was meant to be ruled."

She said as she averted her gaze from him back to the fire.

He finished what remained of his drink before he poured himself another hefty portion of wine.

"What about the demigod?" Cora finally asked after she became irked with both the ennui of the fire and of the silence.

"She's falling into place as well. Soon enough she'll be vulnerable."

"And the council members?"

"That plan has been set into motion as well. As soon as the portals are opened, the members of the Council will meet in their respective Spheric Sanctums. Right where we want them."

"And you're sure our daughter and her companion no nothing of our plan?"

"It was not alluded to, my Queen. But I do not believe so. Did you discover the identity of our escapee?"

"An urchin. A boy of no use to us. He was hauled away this morning," she said as she waved him off in dismissal. "That is all, Supreme Councilor. You may take your leave."

"My Queen," he said bowing to her before leaving the room in silence.

* * *

The streets of Gravens were crowded this day as a stumbling fool dressed in filthy garb made his way to an obscure tavern on the outskirts of the city. The directions had been vague yet simple. Dress in the clothing provided, keep hood up, face concealed, and hands and receptors covered. Talk to no one, look at no one, and head toward the last room on the east side: room number thirteen. Knock thrice.

He had an idea who the mysterious letter came from, but the man who delivered the letter, well, he had not been expecting because it was no more than Darcy, Lord Tyron's own servant.

So here he walked, through sludge, human filth, rot, all while not breaking his identity. The first sight of his hazel eyes or silver receptors would lead him to an instant flogging.

He walked into the tavern, ignoring the hushed whispers and headed for the east rooms. The hall was damp, musty, and dim. All the doors were shut leaving very little light into the corridor. A few loud suggestive moans seeped from their confines, leaving very little to the imagination of what transpired behind the doors. The sounds only reiterated the fact this was not an establishment he wished to frequent.

Door number thirteen appeared at the end to the right. He knocked thrice, and the door opened wide enough to allow for a short, heavyset man to squeeze through. The man inclined his head as an invitation for him to enter.

There, in the cramped room only large enough for a wooden cot and two standing adults, lay a motionless body covered in bloody wraps. The young lad's head was beaten and swollen, almost unrecogniza—_Ryker!_

He looked up and saw his dear friend sitting on a corner stool. Tired and weary.

"By the Gods!" Kael exclaimed as he stared at the broken body. He threw back his hood as he reached forward and grasped a wrist with his fingers as he searched for life.

"I don't think he'll make it, sir." Anders spoke as he lifted an abused flask to his mouth. "He's been like this for days."

"What happened to him?"

Anders shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I went out lookin' for him later that night after we spoke. I found him like this. Somethin' or someone found him before I did. He had no valuables on him, so I'm guessin' he was beaten then looted."

"Gods."

Anders swallowed what remained of his alcohol and tossed the empty cup to the floor where it twirled on its bottom edge, before stopping upright. He pursed his lips in disgusted thought. "It's takin' too long, sir," he began. "Somethin's happened to them."

Kael regarded him closely as he moved another spare stool to the side of the bed. He faced Anders and noticed how disheveled he appeared. His long hair and beard greasy and unkempt. For such a burly man, he looked so small.

"They had a far journey, Master Anders. It takes time. They will come back on the other side. I am certain of it."

"I thought that, too. But my hope is waning," he spoke as he stood and walked over to the wall where a tiny window was cut into the wall at the ceiling. He leaned against the wall and stared out the window at the limited view. "It's steadily growin'," he said peering up to the sky at the black mass. "I've watched it … studied it these past few weeks. It's growin'. Not much, but it's there. We are runnin' out of time."

"Patience and trust: two key components of hope. Keep the faith and pray to the Gods above to keep them safe. They're our only hope, Master Anders. If we stop believing in them, then we have nothing else to believe in," he said as he placed his hands on his legs and went to stand. But he quickly put his forefinger in the air. "Oh, before I forget, did those books provide you with what you were looking for? The lineage books?"

"Aye, sir. And you're not gonna to believe what I've found."

* * *

Hours passed and Emma had yet to return. It begged the question whether she would return at all. The thought alone made Regina's chest constrict painfully. She had known. She had _known_ the possible consequences, not only of her past actions, but also the concealment of such critical and sentimental knowledge. How could she have expected anything else? Her betrayal cost her dearly. Yet another loss she would never recover from. The soft pillow beneath her head grew damper as the minutes passed by. Had she been so selfish in her actions and needs that she had now doomed the three kingdoms and all their inhabitants? All because she no longer desired to withhold such heavy information? Because her heart could no longer function under the immense pressure?

After she watched Emma limp out of the hut and into the evening, she collapsed on the bed. She knew best not to follow. Perhaps she should have. Now, she lay with her back to the door, body resting on the edge of the frame. She didn't hear the slight ruffle of cloth or the soft pads of bare feet on the dense ground.

What she did feel was the bed dip next to her. A cool body nestled against her back as equally chilled arms encircled her waist. She didn't have to see to know to know who it was. She inhaled a shaky breath as an all too familiar scent engulfed her. Even in her borrowed linen shift, Emma still smelt of earthy tones, wood smoke, fragrant herbs from the treatment of her wounds, and honeymint. The latter made her briefly aware she might have visited Kaleisha during her absence. But that thought didn't stay long as relief flooded her system. She cried.

She shifted in place and turned to fully face Emma. But she wasn't expecting what was said. "Please forgive me?" Emma whispered.

Regina's eyes were wide and questioning, like she was awaiting the final blow. She opened her mouth to say something when fingers rested over her lips, a motion meant to ask for silence.

Emma seemed to struggle with herself. Her lips trembled and would part every now again; contemplating what to say, but never voicing it. "I shouldn't have left like that. I just needed … Gods, I just needed to think … absorb everything. I wasn't expecting that, Regina." She was quiet for a long while. Her eyes glistened in the moonlit room. "Do you know how long I've searched for answers? How many nights I have laid awake, thoughts going back to my mother and Danny—how they were killed … who killed them. Even after all these years, my grief never lessened. Not a day goes by that I don't think of them. That I don't think of them and wonder how different my life might have been. I'm not telling you this to bring guilt or hurt toward you. I'm not telling you this out of spite. I just ... I just wanted you to know why—what I'm thinking. All of my thoughts—"

"You owe me no explanations, Emma. None. They are your own and I have no right to them nor do I deserve it. And I certainly do not deserve your forgiveness."

A thick swallow filled the silent room. They had remained at a whisper the entire time. Secluded in their own private bubble.

"I just wish you could've told me somehow."

"I don't expect nor want you to forgive me, Emma. If it weren't for me … your family would likely still be alive. Because you were friends with me, you and your family paid a very heavy price. But … but what I regret most of all"—she began as her eyes filled instantly with tears and her lips quivered—"is you meeting me."

Emma looked flummoxed and ready to protest when Regina continued.

"I have brought too much pain upon you, and you will never understand how heavy my heart is for that. How much I loathe my entire being. I would give my life; I would suffer the most agonizing pain if it meant freeing you of my presence. Because that's all I have to offer. My life thus far has proved meaningless—empty to me. I was the unloved daughter of a hated Queen. The unwanted dark child of her father of light. The broken, abused, and damaged girl who lost the one thing she loved more than anything. I lost a dear friend and a family I would have done anything to call my own. Now I am a woman so full of anger, bitterness, hate, and anguish that I have allowed it to consume me. I am hated everywhere. People are calling for my life as we speak."

"Regina—"

"I love you with all my being, Emma. You have filled parts of me I thought were long past saving. Without you, I know naught who I would have become. You were and are the only good thing that has come in my life."

Her eyes never left Emma's but within those depths, something changed. A fierceness—an intensity that made Regina's breath hitch in her chest. Emma drew even closer, daring Regina to look away, when she spoke lowly and full of passion. "I don't regret _anything—nothing_, not for a second. You understand that? The only thing _I_ regret is you having to live the life you have."

"It made me who I am now, though," Regina acknowledged with despondency. "All those experiences, while horrific, have led me back to you, back to what I call light. You have been the light in my darkest of times … and despite how you may now feel toward me … I do love you, so very much."

"I love you, too, you know."

"I am just terrified I cannot offer you what you want—what you deserve."

"Oh? And what is it I want? Deserve?" Emma asked. Her eyes were heavy and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You deserve happiness—love."

"And what if loving you is part of that happiness? What if being loved by you is what I want?"

"At times, I fear my heart is too dark."

"Yeah, well, you should see mine," Emma said gently with the hint of a small smile. "Despite what you may believe, I don't think we're all that different. We've both hurt, and in turn, caused hurt for others. We're damaged in many ways, but that doesn't mean we're completely broken or lost. It just … I don't know, simply means there is _more _to us. More than all of these common ideas—notions that the realms try to place on us … on everyone. And despite how I see myself at times, I think that's extraordinarily beautiful—incredible, because it shows we are perfectly human."

Regina gasped not only at her words, but the sensation moving across her covered back. Emma's deft hands glided up and down, and Regina knew she could feel every knot, bump, and dip across the plane of her back through the thin shirt. The tips of her fingers scratched lightly.

Soon, those same hands slipped under the hem of her shirt and it was now gentle hands caressing her soft, tender flesh. She inhaled sharply when Emma's bracelets touched her skin. The cool metal, along with her lover's embrace sent tremors throughout her body. The young woman pulled her even closer.

No one had ever touched her like this. And she believed no one would ever have the desire to do so. But yet again, Emma was there to prove her wrong; to lift her from her doubt.

Then Emma pulled back and ran her thumb along redden cheeks. She kissed her softly as she regarded her with affection.

"You know …" Emma began. "I believe you can tell a lot about a person just by two things: their eyes and their hands," Emma spoke tenderly as she took both of Regina's hands within her own and traced the back of her hand with her thumb. She regarded them carefully before lifting one after the other to place a kiss on her palm. She watched the older woman with kind eyes as she continued. "One's eyes can reveal every part of a person's soul; their inner being. No matter the facade they embrace on the outside, the eyes always speak their true intentions, regardless if it's wanted or not. Think of them as a betrayer of one's thoughts, or a reassurance, whichever way you chose to look at it. But a person's hands are different. It doesn't matter how well manicured or maintained they are. If they are calloused and rough. Love can be shown through the hands. Gentle, easy in their movements. The most damaged of hands can show the greatest amount of love. And both your eyes and your hands show that you are capable of great love, Regina. No matter how much your mother or others out there told you otherwise, I've seen it and I've felt it. With each look and with each embrace. You have so much love in your heart I just believe you are afraid to show it at times, and possibly don't quite know _how _to show it because it was something not often shown to you. But, I've fallen in love with you, Regina. I think it's always been there … that connection. So no matter what you believe, someone did love you … _still_ loves you. I love you and I will carve through mountains for you because you deserve that. I'm not perfect, but I can damn well guarantee I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

Regina's lips trembled as she regarded a kind face not but a hair's distance from her own. Her words were wet and thick as she spoke. "How do you know this will work between us? That the end result will be anything less than heartbreak? That we will not leave this more damaged than before? Because I do not know how much more I can take."

"I don't. I can't guarantee you peace of mind that we'll both come out of this unscathed or that there won't be heartache. I can't guarantee it will be perfect because no relationship is. Nothing is perfect. Relationships are a shit load of work. They're an investment, and all investments have inherited risks. But I do love you, Regina, and I want to do this with you. For however long we're meant to be. Until you grow tired of me," she teased lightly. "Just like you, my life was already empty before. You know this, too. I was merely existing. Slowly and methodically moving through life with my heart closed off, and my eyes unseeing. And I know you were worse off than me in that sense. So what do we have to lose? Take a risk, and discover happiness for the first time in a long while? Or turn away in fear and never truly live? But I know my answer. I want to have happiness, and I know that's with you. I will fight for you until my limbs collapse and my body with them. Until my heart stops beating and my mind goes dark. Isn't that what love is about? Loving someone so much, that you are willing to give your all to someone? To die protecting that one person who completes you? Makes you whole? No one will ever hurt you again, Regina. Never again."

"Do you not see you have all the power to do so?"

"I'd never want to hurt you. Can I promise that I won't? No. Do you not think we'll fight, argue, bicker, and disagree? Or that I'll make stupid decisions that will hurt or disappoint you? Because I will, no matter how hard I try. _We'll_ hurt one another."

"Because we often hurt the ones we love most," Regina added sorrowfully, then, as she reigned in her courage, she spoke, "Perhaps—maybe, you really were meant to save me … to save people from me."

Emma didn't respond, just simply kissed her.

A heavy weight had been lifted that night, and even though their thoughts never ceased, they both slept easily, and for once without burden.

* * *

Morning found both women engaged in peaceful silence as they prepared themselves for the last of their journey. Emma's wounds had healed just enough for her to manage the trip. Her strength still lacked somewhat, but the Grimish Seed bread performed its task well.

"So …" Emma began; her voice soft. "The Supreme Henry is your father. These worlds are becoming more complex and broad than I'd ever dreamed," she said with a light heart; wonderment and a small chuckle escaping her chest.

"You have no idea …"

"You know though, don't you?"

Regina took a deep breath, and sat down on spare stool, steadying herself for the heavy conversation they were about to embark on. "My father tells me that my mother was in fear of people stepping across the boundaries and fleeing her kingdom. She was afraid that if enough people fled, she and her kingdom would be reduced to nothing," she explained. "Purity of The White was also a concern. But my mother wanted absolute control, and after a certain number of people crossed the boundary, that's when the portals were created. I certainly didn't know all this at the time. She would have preferred everyone die and never lose control than to be defeated."

"Wow," Emma said as she looked down at her stuffed rucksack. Not really knowing what to say. But her curiosity piqued as she pondered what all Regina knew and was withholding from her.

"Do you know how to stop it now, with certainty?" Emma asked and Regina nodded. "Is it as you expected?"

"Yes," Regina lied. Well, it was partially the truth anyway. The orbs are what would allow her to close them permanently, but what she hadn't considered, until her father's carefully obscure words, was the possible need for her to cross into the last portal. Death was one choice word he used. She stopped her folding and glanced at Emma. If what he implied was indeed the case, there would be no returning. The portal would claim both her and the orb. She prayed she was wrong though because the last thing she wanted was to cause Emma more pain. She had accepted her fate, but what she hadn't accepted was Emma's. Either way certain sureness existed: one or both of them would end up paying a heavy price.

"Regina?" Her gaze jumped up to meet concerned green eyes. "You all right?"

Emma had been speaking to her. Regina nodded asked her to continue.

"Your mother, why was she so cruel?"

Regina tensed at the question, but answered. "I've asked myself that same question ever since I was a young girl. Always found blame with myself, however. Thought I had done something to cause her such anger. I've heard many versions—explanations. One most recently from my father, but … there's only one I know to be true. Darcy once told me of her upbringing. I had never met my grandparents. They were never spoken of … not once. The only way I know their names are through lineage books. But I was told my mother was born and raised in the White to the wealthiest and most influential of families. If she wanted something, she got it, no questions asked. She was a spoiled, unpleasant child," she said with a scowl. "One afternoon, while she was attending lessons, her father was murdered. Her mother, in her grief, became unsuitable to raise my mother. So, in a matter of hours, my mother went from having everything to having nothing. Fueled by anger, grief, and her own spoils, she sought revenge against the person who took her father's life and her own. She became obsessed, and when it was known a nobleman wanted her hand in marriage, my grandmother forced it. Years passed, her mother died, and my mother still delved into dark readings. She told Darcy it gave her strength—power. A feeling no one could ever take from her again."

"What happened then?"

Regina shrugged, perhaps with indifference. "Well, my father discovered her secret, along with evidence of assassination orders. She had people killed who she thought were related to her father's death. At that point, she was pregnant with me, yet still banished to the Black where she later inveigled the Lord to marry her to his son. And the rest is history, so they say."

"So, grief led Cora down this path."

"I would not say one thing caused this fate for my mother. I believe it was several factors, one falling right after the other. She never recovered from one until another happened. Grief, fear, selfishness, loss of control, it matters naught. Like myself, she knew right from wrong. Yet she chose the path that offered her the most, more quickly. I can never, nor would I ever condone her actions. I was an innocent child, along with thousands of others whose innocence brought them nothing but pain, torment, and death. It is inexcusable."

Emma's smile said everything: understanding, sadness, and determination. "Well," she spoke as she offered her hand for Regina to take. She grasped her hand protectively as her eyes softened. "Why, don't we head off for the last leg of our grand adventure, Your Majesty?"

Regina smiled and nodded.

* * *

Emma had gathered what few supplies they needed from a local merchant and was headed back to the stables when the most wonderful sight caught her eyes. Several of the villagers and their children had congregated to see them of off. A few children hugged tight at Regina's legs, almost clinging to her breeches. A young girl and boy talked animatedly as they pointed to several things and listened with enthusiasm as Regina patiently described or explained something. At one point, she even lifted the girl up on her hip while tiny, clumsy hands stroked the horse's cheek.

Kaleisha had brought both Regina and her fresh clothing. All of which they happily took, and now wore with delight. Regina stood and looked impossibly young—fresh. Perhaps the happiest Emma had ever seen her. Her smile was breathtaking, spreading ear to ear, all teeth. Her eyes squinted against the sun. Her tan jerkin appeared freshly made and her brown breeches hugged her figure with perfection. She wore her hair in a single tight braid that fell between her shoulder blades.

Emma looked down at her own clothing with seemed a lighter shade except she had her sleeves rolled up her forearm. She looked down at her bracelets and watched as they caught the light of the high sun. She took a deep breath then moved from the cover of the corner building.

Regina must have heard the jingle of the satchels and seen her approach because she sat the young girl down and motioned with a pointed finger off in the distance. All the children took off running.

"They seem taken by you," Emma said with a large smile as she attached their bags to Trysu and the other horse given to them by the stableman. Trysu didn't seem to favor the gelding much.

"Perhaps," Regina said offhandedly as if uncomfortable with the notion.

"You seem good with children. Just seems natural to you … it's something I'll never be," she confessed.

"That surprises me, dear. You were around your brother after all."

"I guess it's just different. I loved him so much, but I didn't allow myself to get too close to him until after he was older. I kinda separated myself. Anyway, mother always stayed at home with him while I hunted. He went with me when he got older but … maybe it all reduces down to not having the time or desire to be close to him when he was a baby—I mean babies died all the time, y'know. I just never felt that instinct, I guess. What about you? Have you ever wanted children?"

"Perhaps when I was younger. I believe it is ingrained with young girls to desire motherhood and all it entails. But now? No, I do not wish to have children."

Emma fumbled with Trysu's harness as she pondered whether or not to ask her next question. "Why?"

Regina tensed up at the question, and retorted with a quick, "I simple don't. Will you please let it alone?"

Emma looked away from her and muttered an apology before she started off to the stables in search of a lead rope.

"I'm afraid I would be just like my mother." Regina whispered as she heard Emma's retreating footfalls. She held her breath as those same steps stopped their progression.

"What?" Emma asked, searching for clarification because surely she didn't hear what she thought she heard.

"That's why I don't want children."

Emma walked to her and placed careful hands against her shoulders as she turned Regina to face her.

"You're afraid you'll treat them as your mother treated you?" Emma said. "That's preposterous! I've said it once, and I'll say it a thousand times over till you believe it. You are nothing like your mother. The way you were with those kids … you were nurturing, caring, and you simply showed them affection—warmth. That's what all children want. Someone they feel safe with and someone who loves them in return. I know what it's like to live in dark places. There's a part of you that craves that bond created by love. You desperately want someone there with you … to share the burden with. Someone to hold you while you cry or when you're sick. When you lose that … when you lose a parent … or are denied that bond altogether, if feels as if the weight of all realms is upon you—weighing you down and smothering you. It's a void that can never be filled. A dark spot on your heart that never fully goes away and I know you understand this better than anyone. You will never be Cora. And you'd be a damn good mother."

The hollow clacks of horses and their owners brought their attention from each other. A young ashen haired girl led the pack. "Majesty, Emma," she greeted both of them. "We're ready whenever you are." Kaleisha announced from a few paces behind them.

Emma nodded and looked at Regina before grasping her hand and squeezing it in reassurance. And the look she received in return was enough to light her soul on fire. This … sparkle resided there. Determination, resolve, devotion, all made its home there.

They mounted their stead and looked toward the southern horizon.

"Who would have thought, Majesty," Emma started as she gazed ahead. A knowing grin painted across her face. "A low blood and a woman of royalty; racing off into the distance to save the realms?"

Regina chuckled and returned her smile with enthusiasm. "We do make quite a pair, don't we, dear?"

Emma looked on as she withdrew her compass. "Which way will the wind guide us, Majesty?"

"Southwest." She pointed to a tiny black spot right on the line that separated earth from sky. "That should take us straight to the Gray if my readings are correct."

"Well, we've come this far, so let's hope so." She said as Trysu shifted anxiously under her.

Kaleisha rode up to them after having settled her men. "We'll follow you to the edge of The Red Forest. That should get you close enough, and out of harm's way."

Emma rolled her shoulders and lolled her head side-to-side, trying to loosen any remaining knots before she gripped her reigns. "Well, the Realm is not getting any closer at this pace, let's ride!"

And the group of seven galloped into the distance. They were that much closer to the realm in which Emma had once called home. Or at least they thought they were.


	21. Chapter XVII - The Fairest Realm of All

**Chapter XVII - The Fairest Realm of All**

Two days. Two days and they now were within reach of the Gray Realm, less than two leagues to be exact. It was a wonderful, freeing feeling. The weight of the realms lifted from their weary shoulders. The remainder of their task would be simple now. With a bit of luck, by morning's dawn, Emma would be nestled within the warmth and safety of her bed at home, and Regina alongside with her. Emma's heart sped up with the notion. She closed her eyes to envision those moments; to bring her fantasies to life. If she felt this way now, she didn't know if her body could handle the reality of it all. Finally, after all these miserable years, in a mere few hours, that part of her life would be over and she could start anew with a love that would last lifetimes and a new title of Master at the Capital. Regina deserved this opportunity as well. All of that and more, and Emma counted away the hours in which she could give it all to her. But in the Realms of Thrice, nothing was ever that easy.

The woodlands surrounding them thrived with an abundance of life, so unlike winter in the Dark Forest of Fawr. Here streams flooded with energy, giant weeping willows swayed with utmost grace and elegance in the gentle afternoon breeze. Birds fluttered and sang beneath the overstory. The sounds around enchanted them, sending both into peaceful contentment: the soft whispers of wind as it flowed against the vegetation, the gentle laps and splashes of water against the rocks and current, the occasional snap of twigs as critters danced across the woodland duff, the echoing lullabies played forth by songbirds.

The warm springtime breeze invigorated Emma's flesh as she closed her eyes and settled into her thoughts. How she wished she could have romped through these woods as a child. She opened her eyes and could not find one deathly or diseased tree. The gloom which had enveloped the dark forest ceased to exist here. If she had known these woods laid right outside her window, or even thought to look, she would have spent for more of her time out here than in the constricting confines of her residence.

They topped a small hill that gave a straight view to the kingdom that lay in front of them.

Straight away, Emma looked for the trademark capital building. She knew it would be the first thing she saw considering its design and size. She smiled as she gazed upon her city. But she saw nothing that resembled the Gray. No meticulously hand crafted steel buildings. No shimmering glass. Just simple elegance built within the foundation of nature. Emma's breath caught with the sheer beauty of the sight. She couldn't tell, but the buildings seemed soft, not the typical hard edges found on most homes or structures. They appeared to have a sandy fawn color to them.

In that moment, Regina paled as a heavy gasp left her chest. Emma turned to her in alarm, jerking Trysu along with her. He fidgeted in protest but didn't fight her.

"Regina?" The concern in Emma's voice didn't break her gaze. Emma looked in the direction of her stare but saw nothing. "Regina, what's the matter?"

Regina just stared blankly. "We're not in The Gray Realm," she whispered.

"Wh—what?! Where the three are we then?!"

Regina turned to look at her, and it was at that moment, that panic filled Emma's heart. Regina looked of absolute fear. "We're in The White Realm."

Emma's eyebrows rose in surprise not expecting that answer. In fact, she felt relief and didn't understand Regina's apprehension. "Oh, well … that's still good, right? I mean, at least we're at a realm."

No response came and she thought back to their journey from the village.

"Did we misread the map or something?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I'm afraid we have company."

Emma squinted and look in the direction Regina nodded toward. A small cloud drew near.

"I'm guessing that's the welcoming committee?"

"No one's ever breached the realms in this manner. This could be very dangerous, Emma," Regina spoke as her wide eyes never left the horizon. A line of white horses with gleaming gold armor reflected in the high afternoon sun. They drew near, riding faster and faster as brittle dirt was kicked up around them, encasing them in a dust cloud.

"For them?" Emma asked, not quite grasping the situation Regina was alluding to.

"For us, Emma."

Both women rode down the hill and stopped when they thought enough distance had been left between them and the other forces.

Each party stopped in front of the other, a vast amount of space between them. So much, in fact, neither could identify the other through appearance. The opposing side were dressed in all white expect for the slight touches of gold that caught the sunlight. The guards stood steadfast, spears and swords raised in determination and intimidation. Their numbers weren't too impressive. Emma counted ten guards and a lone unarmed and unarmored man. She hoped this would go their way, if not; Regina and her would have a difficult if not impossible altercation on their hands, considering neither were particularly gifted or trained in hand-to-hand combat. Emma gulped at the notion.

Emma dismounted first, followed by Regina. They were slow and cautious with their movements, trying not to spook the forces in front of them. Up ahead, she saw the lone man dismount and stood steady. Emma put her hand up in a mollifying manner, but as soon as she did, an invisible force grabbed her, immobilizing her and sucking the air from her lungs. Her wrists burned as the receptors that wrapped around them restrained her. She briefly heard Regina cry out for her before she too was silenced. Whoever this individual was, he was powerful. Then, they both were thrown back, like children's straw dolls in an angry wind.

Pain shot through Emma's left hand and up her wrist to her elbow and then shoulder. A few of her fingers had been dislocated as well as her shoulder. The pain that thrummed through the left side of her body ached at an immeasurable level. She couldn't even lift herself from her prone position on the ground. Her shoulder screamed at each and every strain, causing white splatters across her field of vision, but the moment she saw Regina lying on the ground, struggling to move herself, a pain of a different measure flooded her being. Red colored her world and she screamed through the pain as she stood.

And just as she expected, she felt an unseen force grip her body, but the difference this time, she anticipated it. On pure instincts, and really not expecting anything significant, she threw up her both hands as best as she could, letting her natural energy unfold around her, and Gods was it spectacular.

Because her powers had been so unpredictable in the past, she really didn't know how to control them or hone them. But perhaps this wasn't about control. Right now she was furious, and determined to let the unknown entity feel this.

The air around them cracked and splintered with unadulterated energy. She felt the static lick against her flesh and the tiny hairs across her body rise with each passing moment. Regina's presence behind her encouraged her on, but she could hear Regina's cries of protest begging her to stop. But she couldn't. Not when the amount of energy being thwarted could blow them apart.

Emma found her powers to be almost equally matched to the unknown attacker. She had known for quite some time the power and gift she had been blessed—cursed with, but she never knew it could be used to such an extent. Her arms, shoulders, and chest, and the muscles beneath burned in protest as she continued to overexert her body. It was quickly becoming clear the opposing foe was gaining strength.

A roaring sound vibrated the thick air and deafened both foes. The ground fractured beneath their feet, like cracks slicing through ice or glass.

With a sudden burst of energy, the metal plate encasing her wrists began to burn and she could feel her skin beginning to split vertically at her bracelet up her arm nearing her elbow; her flesh tearing like fissures in the earth. The pain was immense and her arms quaked for that very reason. She grew lightheaded as the pain enveloped her fully and she screamed out silently. Her teeth clenched to the point of cracking, but her concentration never gave. She had to protect them—protect Regina.

Pools of blood gathered at her feet and with every drop it would splatter against her well worn leather boots. Her body was failing and fast

* * *

Regina stood helplessly as she watched Emma waste away, her powers weakening with each thrum of the force. She tried in vain to approach her numerous times, begging—pleading for her to stop—that it was killing her. Panic didn't even describe her current feeling. She would have taken her torture thousands of times over to kept from witnessing this—keep Emma from harm. Despite the years of pain she endured, this surpassed everything. Watching someone you love die right in front of your eyes exceeded all forms of torture. Something you would never come back from.

These past few months told her so much about the young woman she had always loved, yet with each passing moment that love, which seemed to hold no bounds, grew even more into something so indescribable and filling. The weight of it was fulfilling yet suffocating. Suffocating in moments like this, as she watched blood spill from lean arms and pool at her feet. Liquid crimson dripping from her nose and even the corners of her eyes. The pressure must have been ungodly. She had never seen nor experienced Emma's true power; only witnessed the signs and symptoms that were to come. The way her body shook with pent up rage, the muscles and tendons straining against her flesh, the red that swept over her hardened face, the look of determination settled within the depths of her eyes.

She diverted her gaze and settled on the challenger. Oddly enough, they seemed equally matched which puzzled Regina even more. Her thoughts didn't allow her to dwell too much on those petty matters, but a question lingered at the back of her mind nonetheless. Emma was far stronger than she ever conceived, and Regina only new one class of humans who possessed such strength.

Impossible.

* * *

But then, unaware of how close both she and the enemy had become, she finally saw his face. He was smiling at her. Elation etched across his face like this was all an amusing game. He nodded once to her as if to say, well done, well fought.

Finally, all came to an end, with a final push from the opposing side. A bright white light was emitted and came hurtling toward them like a massive stone wall.

Emma flew back several feet as Regina screamed out her name.

Emma was unhearing of such a pitiful sound for her body went numb. She gazed silently up at the blinding sun until all went dark, including her pain.

* * *

Everything spun. All the sickening blobs of color spun above her as voices mumbled around her. The crushing pressure mounting within her skull blinded her, and her whole body—every piece of her _hurt_. She couldn't move … couldn't breathe, but the voices kept on speaking to her. The world tilted on its axis as vertigo smacked her square in the face. She was moving; or rather someone was moving her. Then the voices became clearer.

* * *

One of the guards knelt next to Emma, supporting half of weight against him. He held her up as he checked her over. "She's coming to, your Grace," he spoke, addressing the demigod who stood not but feet from him.

"Ah, excellent."

Regina had been watching while restrained as they hovered over Emma's prone body. She was still in shock. Disbelieving her own eyes as to what she had just witnessed. Emma was more powerful than she ever thought or comprehended. But what felt most terrifying was the fact Regina knew _nothing_. She had no point of reference regarding Emma's abilities, or how dangerous her current state was. She didn't know how much strain her body could take and if it could even take anymore.

Regina watched each labored breath as if were her own lifeline.

"Please," Regina sobbed. "She must be tended to straight away. Her injuries are too severe."

The Demigod simply looked at her and smiled a sickening smile; no concern on his face, and that made Regina even more desperate.

He crouched down next to Emma and his guard as he looked her over with a critical eye. At one point, he gripped her wrist and Regina saw the slightest movement from her love's still body. "Her wounds aren't the concern." The Demigod voiced as he appraised her with a gleeful gaze. "She merely overexerted herself, have no fear. A brilliant display of might and fortitude she gave. Never have I been so evenly matched. A testament to her powers," he stated as he looked back to Regina.

Regina caught the hidden meaning with his words. How did he know?

"Oh, don't look so surprised …. _Majesty_. You think I would not recognize the infamous fallen Queen of Black? Granted I didn't expect to meet on these terms, and especially not in this manner, you see, but I knew you the moment I saw you," he said, then he turned his head and gazed down at Emma. "And her … how could I not recognize her?"

Then Emma stirred and called out, "Regina?" She heard no answer, and panic settled into the pit of her stomach. "Regina!"

Then, as if suddenly clear and lucid, Regina's melodious voice found her, "I am right here, Emma. I haven't left."

Her vision, while beginning to clear, still had not focused enough. She looked for her love and finally saw a glimpse of her, restrained and on her knees between two guards. Emma couldn't see detail so she missed the grief-stricken expression painted across Regina's face. She missed the shudder that passed through her body in relief. But she didn't miss the slight tremor to her voice.

Emma's mind raged again as she tried to free herself of her inhibitions. One goal came to mind: save Regina.

She fought against her restraints as she yelled, "Let her go you sons of whores!"

"Watch your tongue girl. Do you even know who you are so carelessly addressing?" the guard asked.

"Yes, a son of a whore!"

"You bitch," the guards shouted as he connected his fist with her face. A sickening crack filled the air and Regina screamed out as blood dripped from Emma's mouth and nose. Her anger had come back full force, and it was building inside her.

"She's resilient, this one. Better calm yourself, child. Your body's too weak, too prone. You're not use to such power, and what you're doing now, well … it could easily kill you."

Thick blood streamed from her nose and the corners of her mouth. She looked at him through clouded eyes, she was exhausted.

"Who are you?" she whispered as she licked her lips, trying to clear them of her blood.

She took that moment to study him. He looked so familiar; almost as if she should recognize him. His face was flawless and his head cleanly shaven, showcasing his beautiful golden irises. He looked to be about her mother's age, except he didn't seem to age.

"I am Santor Whiteborn, Demigod of the White. Son of Orabela, the Goddess of Stature."

Emma huffed as she spit out to the side some of the blood gathered within her mouth. "No wonder you're so vain," she said with a smirk.

But he surprised her with a return grin as cold as an ice sheet.

"You should be careful throwing around such accusations. An insult such as that is like the pot calling the kettle black. After all, you are my daughter."

Emma stared, flabbergasted. "What?"

"Oh, don't act so surprised. You know as well as anyone that your mother dared not speak of her past. You never knew the truth behind your bloodlines other than what your mother led you to believe."

"David Nolan was my father."

"David Nolan was your mother's husband. No, you my child are a Whiteborn. Like it or not, you are a Demigod—Daughter of Santor Whiteborn, Demigod, and Mary Margaret Nolan, human."

"That can't be true."

"Can't it? Your powers never truly showed themselves until today right?"

Regina was the first to interrupt. "That's not true," she said. "Emma has always shown more abilities than the average person. But they've always seemed contained. I've never seen her power like this."

"And do you know why that is, Dark Queen?"

"Because she's in The White Realm. One's powers are only their strongest, or even visible in some cases, when their within their parent God's realm."

"You knew?" Emma asked Regina softly.

"I wasn't certain. Especially when you spoke that language."

Santor gazed darted between the fallen Queen and his daughter; his curiosity mounting with each second. "What language?" he asked; his voice high.

Regina shook her head, "I did not recognize it, but I assumed it was the ancient language of the Gods."

Santor looked to his daughter in amazement, but before he could voice his thoughts or praises, Emma fully collapsed back into unconsciousness.

"Get her. We'll take her back to the palace, and you," he addressed Regina, "take her horse. Follow us and keep close. We're about four leagues from the city."

* * *

They traveled the remaining distance through the Ebony Woodlands, and Regina took notice of how different even the forests were in this realm. But as they crossed into the city, her breath was stolen from her. Beauty existed at every corner, at every crevice; from the smoothly laid paths and walkways, to the intricate carvings adorning each and every building, to the exquisitely carved marble sculptures which stood proud, to the shimmering rooftops. Golden half dome-shaped roofs caught the rays of the suns with spectacular effects, painting the city with life and light. Sections of alabaster and pale marble decorated the buildings, columns, and trimmings, all with gold accents. It was almost a whitewash as even the people gracing the streets at three hours past high noon wore white robes, dresses, and tunics. A few, very few beige garments could be seen dotted within the crowds.

It was then Regina noticed the stares they were receiving. She imagined it appeared very odd for the palace guards to be escorting such oddly dressed, and, dare she say, filthy beings such as herself and Emma, and in the presence of Santor, no less.

The horse's hooves clacked pleasantly against the stone path as they ascended up an incline which would take them to the White Palace. Once they arrived, Santor had Regina and Emma both escorted up to their temporary chambers where nursemaids would tend to both women's wounds. Regina was not concerned with her own, which were minor at best, but her eyes never ventured too long from the various wounds and bruises scattered about Emma's young, limp body. She hadn't even recovered fully from her last wounds.

In no more than an hour's time, as Regina sat dutifully next to Emma's bedside, Santor arrived to formally greet them.

His demeanor had changed drastically, though he still held a certain arrogant air about him, but his body and shoulders were less tense, more forgiving. He approached Regina and bowed to her, his elegant white robes moving effortlessly with his form. The fallen Queen immediately stood, and returned the custom.

He nodded to her and walked long strides over to the opened balcony doors where his robes rippled in the pleasant breeze. "I hope these chambers are acceptable?" he asked after a moment.

Regina nodded before speaking. "More than, thank you, Your Grace."

He smiled as he looked from Regina to his daughter. "You've spent much time together, no? She's undoubtedly grown very close to you… and you to her," he observed, a hint of amusement to his tone.

"We have always been close, even as children, but more so now than ever. The distance and time apart really did nothing but strengthen what we already had. It is quite beautiful really."

"You love her," he stated.

"Without question, I do. I would give my life for her."

"As she would for you, and, as it seems, she's already proven that."

_As she has many times_, Regina thought to herself as she momentarily disregarded the strange man standing beside her and focused solely on Emma from the time being. They had saved each other more times than either could count, but Regina only focused on the times in which Emma saved her. She was the only person who, other than Dane, made any effort at all.

Santor cleared his throat before speaking again. "You know, she'll thrive here."

Regina turned and looked at him in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Her home. She'll thrive here … blossom into her destined role by my side as a Demigod of White. Only here would her true powers and identity be known. Only here would she be praised and adored for who she is … as she should be. She would be loved, admired … celebrated. _Worshiped_. My daughter could have anything and everything she desired, here in the purest of all realms."

He stopped as he watched Regina's expression darken; her lips tightened, the muscles strained along her next, and her eyes narrowed. Still he pressed on, intent on his goal.

"That is her role, Miss Mills, fallen and disgraced Evil Queen of Black," he sneered. "Her role is about to be fulfilled, and once it is, she'll be offered a permanent home here, in her rightful kingdom, and you … if you hold out your end of the arrangement and close the portal, I will speak for you and make it where you can live out the remainder of your days in either the Black or the Gray … under constant supervision, of course, but free, nonetheless. You'd live modestly, have no fear, and in solitude where you would be a threat to no one."

Regina swallowed the large dry lump that had settled within her throat. She didn't look at him as she answered. Instead, she settled her soft gaze on Emma. "My place is by her side, always."

"I would never hurt my daughter—not again; therefore, I would guarantee your safety. But I implore you … please think about Emma. You've seen her powers—seen what she's capable of. The hurt it causes her. She was never trained how to deal with that—how to cope with her gifts, and because of that, she's suffered. Now, consider everything she could have here. Look at the life she's lived thus far. Think of what it would be like for her to live in the finest and most envied realm of all. Everything she's always wanted—right here at her disposal. Will you really keep her from that—all this?" he asked as his hands waved around the room. "Her happiness?"

"What makes you so certain this is indeed what she wants?"

He smirked at her. "Isn't this what everyone wants?" he asked. "A rare gift for the select few—the fortunate. I believe deep down in that tainted heart of yours you love my daughter, and I don't question that, not from what I've witnessed. I'm in awe of the love that you, the fallen Evil Queen, whose heart is as black as the realm she kept, hold for her. But you must see—understand how you will hold her back. Your past will hold her back."

Regina looked at him, but refused to give him the pleasure of knowing how much his words struck her. She took a deep breath, but her voice still held its tremor. "That is likely the case, yes," Regina conceded. "I am not worthy of her love … but she will decide what she wants. And if she does indeed want this life here … then I will not stand in her way. I will not be responsible for holding her back. Because she does deserve someone more than I and the life I could give her."

Santor nodded, obviously pleased with her response. Surely, a sign of victory, he thought. "You'd be a danger to her, you understand. People never forget the ones who wronged them. The hurt may dissipate day-by-day, but the anger never lessens. And she would be right there alongside you. Is that what you want?"

The fallen Queen shook her slowly.

"Good. Call for me when she wakes. There's much to discuss, and I'm afraid limited time to do so."

* * *

Regina didn't know how many minutes or hours had passed. The sun had already begun its descent into the horizon; taking its leave to allow life in the night to begin. Supper had been served some time ago, but because Emma still slept, Regina took the small offering for both her and Emma from the chambermaid. The serving platter held a loaf of bread, halved, a basket of hard-boiled eyes, and some pork slices. Her stomach growled as she looked at the delicious components of the tray. It wouldn't be much between them, Regina mused. She was sure the meal served down below in the royal dining hall would have been elaborate as servants filled the length of the table with an array of exotic and tasty offerings, not to mention the wine. But considering the size of the meals both Emma and she had been consuming these past months, surely such a large meal would have been more detrimental to their cause than not eating at all.

So, Regina ate her small portion and wrapped the rest for Emma to eat once she awoke.

Soon, after calling upon the chambermaids to fill the large marble basin in the washroom, Regina took a short bath and readied for the night. When she exited the room, she noticed Emma was awake, sitting up against the headboard, and had squares of cloth scattered about the covers. She had eaten her meal, and now looked stronger than ever.

"You're awake," Regina said softly but couldn't help but notice the dejected look on Emma's face.

"Yeah," she mumbled while still staring out the darkened window. It was a beautiful sight, really. The soft glow of the palace's exterior candlelight seeped into the lit room, adding an extra ambiance of light. It was different from anything Regina had ever seen. The purity and, dear she say, safety that radiated off these walls felt overwhelming.

It was then, as she gazed at Emma, did she feel the need to say something—anything.

"I'm so sor—"

"No, don't," Emma interrupted as gently as she could manage. There was no harshness to her voice, only weariness. "I don't know what you're apologizing for now, but there's nothing to be forgiven. _Nothing_. I just want to stop with the apologies, Regina. You've done nothing to require my forgiveness. I know your heart is laden with guilt—a weight upon it I cannot even fathom. But …"

"I have hurt you … just for being who I am. Look at all the pain I have caused you."

"No, no, Regina."

"I have had time to think and—"

"And what?"

"Once we depart here and close the portal … I will be leaving you and return to the black to live out the remainder of my sentencing."

"What?! No … _no_! You absolutely _cannot_!"

"It is decided, Emma. It is for the best."

"The best for whom?!" she asked, but then she saw it. The recognition of a strained heart—grief. She heard the little tremor as she spoke. What Regina voiced, was not all entirely what she felt. There might have been some truths in her words; truths that never would have seen the light of the sun if someone hadn't of coaxed them out of her. "Someone's spoken to you," Emma said. "Filled your head with all these notions—ideas. Who was it? My supposed _father_?" she spat the word as if uttering it filled her mouth with venom. Her frustration and heartache built, then, "Gods damn it all, Regina! Tell me!" It was spoken as a desperate plea, but Emma immediately regretted the strength of her plea when Regina visible flinched and turned, startled by the outburst.

With frantic movements, Emma tore the sheets off her and stood, albeit shakily, and with calm steps, walked to Regina.

She placed a gentle hand on Regina's shoulders and whispered her name.

"Look at me, please." Regina turned and her shimmering crimson eyes found Emma's. It was like light drawn to shadows. The young woman's heart about shattered when she saw what wetness had escaped and now adorned her beautiful face. She wiped them away, and then spoke. "I would rather perish right here on that foreign bed than to live a life without you. And I know that's dramatic and pathetic, but I've seen—I've lived a life without you, and it wasn't a life. Not for me, and I had everything I could possibly want … things that would have made the ordinary person elated with glee and full of life. But I was empty—void. And it was so deep I couldn't fill it, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many nights I tried to numb the pain … I couldn't. I lost you once … and I can't—" she stopped and tried to swallow the prominent of her nerves that remained. "I can't bear that immense—_complete_ loss again. It will destroy what good is left in me. Can't you see that?"

Regina furrowed her brow in confusion at her words. "The good left in you?" she asked, at an utter loss for words. "Emma, all you are is good. Your whole being exemplifies good."

Emma just shook her head as her own tears formed. "No," she said with certainty. "I'm prone to darkness just like every other human being. But you've kept me in the light. Even after all these years because I saw—witnessed what true beauty and love are. Not only from my mother and brother, but from you. _You_ gave me strength and hope."

Regina opened her mouth to protest, but Emma's soon covered hers in a loving kiss that tried to show where words failed. The soft hand that cupped the Queen's cheek grounded her and made her feel everything she could have, but also what all she stood to lose should she allow it. A surprised gasp flew from her mouth when a strong arm wrapped around her waist and brought her flush against the younger woman. Regina clutched her jerkin as if it would save her from drowning; keep her afloat in this flood of emotions. Gods, _why_ would she ever say no to this? Why would she even consider it? Wasn't this what she had always wanted? To be happy? To be free? To love freely and be loved equally in return? _Yes! _A resounding yes all around, but she only wanted that with one person: Emma.

"Emma," she whispered.

She felt her knees go weak as sudden realization overtook her. She had all that now. She loved purely, was loved deeply in return and at the moment, was free to do it all. Despite what the horrors the future might hold, she held happiness in her heart for the first time in many, many years.

She pulled back from Emma and held her face close with both hands as their foreheads rested together. They spoke silently through their eyes, sharing the same air. Then Regina felt warmth spread across her back where the young demigod's hands were placed. It felt of comfort, security, contentment … it felt of home. She closed her eyes, reclined her head, and allowed the sensation to take her completely.

Regina felt the gentle brush of lips against her chin and throat as Emma whispered, "I love you, Regina." I can't force you to see what it is I see but, please … _please_, think about everything I've spoken. It all came straight from my heart, and not from the mouth of a man who knows nothing about you or about me."

After a minute, Emma spoke again. "It was him, wasn't it?" she asked for confirmation.

"Yes, he came by while you whilst you were sleeping. You have his eyes, you know. Granted, his were void of love—warmth, but they were cold and untelling when they needed be, yet full of devotion and fortitude."

Emma smiled, then said, "It matters naught. I never knew my father regardless, and my mother is long dead. I am who I am, and knowing he is my father doesn't change that."

"Even if you now know you are a Demigod?"

"It explains … _everything_," Emma said. Her expression read as relief, like a thick plating of armor had just been pulled off her shoulders. "But I'm still me."

"Indeed, you are," Regina said with much love before slipping her hand behind Emma's head which brought her in for a soft kiss.

An impatient clearing of one's throat tore their attention from each other.

Santor stood at the doorway; his hands clasped in front of him. "So sorry to interrupt such a … sentimental moment, but we have much to discuss," he stated as his harsh gaze settled on Regina. Both women nodded and followed him out of the room, Regina grasping Emma's arm just as they had done all those years ago.

* * *

Emma gazed up at the large spherical room which made her dizzy with the height. This had to be the Spheric Sanctum and sure enough, as she gazed off to her left, there, mounted within a hollowed out section of wall was the transcendent portal. She walked to it with a word and, with much hesitation, grip one of the bars like so many before her. It felt surreal to hold something with so much power; the power to grant, the power to take—all within seconds. She wondered the last thoughts her mother had while awaiting her fate. What had even caused her banishment to begin with? All her mother had ever spoken of was an ill deed. Nothing more.

"First time in a Sanctum?" Santor asked as Emma's fingers moved over the gold grip bars.

Emma wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, but instead, she simply said, "No."

"I suppose there's really not a need for someone of your abilities and title. It was a foolish question, please pardon me."

"You say you're my father."

"I am, yes."

"Then tell me the truth. The whole story … why I stand here—a supposed Demigod of White yet of dark birth. Why I stand here without a mother or brother … both who were lost to a dark realm. I want the histories that led me to this spot."

"You're not asking for too much, are you?" he chuckled, but it was unkind, dark. "Your mother was accused of the murder of David Nolan. Her husband. She was found guilty by a trail of the Council, as well as myself, and banished to the Black Realm."

Emma studied him as he talked. She didn't have to look at him to know his mistruths that were tangled and weaved between each syllable he uttered. They were voiced in the words he spoke. Emma might have only known her mother during her youth, but she knew her mother to be a good, decent, kind, and honest woman who only wanted and desired the absolute best for her children. The woman she knew growing up could never have committed murder, let alone the murder of someone she loved so dearly, out of malice. Mary Margaret was not a spiteful person. But she knew other people. Oh, did she know other people. And they certainly were capable of horrid things.

"Did she commit the murder?" Emma finally asked and looked her father directly in his eyes.

He didn't reply. Instead, he faltered under her scrutiny. There. That was her answer.

"You banished an innocent woman and her unborn child for a crime she didn't commit? WHY?!" she demanded as rage built within her.

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!"

"I LOVED your mother!" he finally bellowed. "I worshiped the ground she walked upon! But she didn't love me in return. The night you were conceived, before I left her, she told me she was to be married to David. I had offered her marriage, you see. But she didn't want to be the wife of Demigod. She didn't want the limitations my status brought. She wanted children—a family, something forbidden of me. She wanted simplicity, and she had that with David."

"So you decided to kill him? Eliminate the threat that stood in your way, then you both were free to be together," she spoke out loud, mainly to herself as she tried to sort through the unintelligible plot. "So, why then did you banish her?! And your child that you knew she was carrying if he was out of the way?"

He paced the floor, begging her to understand. "Because people would have known immediately that you were not David's child. Accusations would have been brought against me, due to our previous _engagements_, and we both would have suffered … including you."

"But we suffered anyway! Because of your weakness I grew up in horrors that no person, let alone a child, should have to endure. I lost my family!"

"She was supposed to keep you safe! She betrayed my trust!"

Emma stepped back, thunderstruck. "Who? My mother?" she asked in confusion.

"The Queen."

At the utterance of those two words, both Emma and Regina's heads jerked to meet his gaze. Both equal in their puzzlement.

"My mother," Regina stated.

Santor gave a curt nod. "I was terrified of the consequences of my actions. I would have lost everything if word had come about of my _transgressions_—I fathered a child out of wedlock! I, as a _Demigod,_ fathered a child! Do you understand the repercussions of that? I approached the Queen in hopes of alleviating my problems. Our terms were simple, I would banish my love and unborn child and thus be relieved of any wrong doings, and the Queen would gain possession over a Demigod, a gift that the Black is not granted. A Demigod of whom she hoped would grow to the love the dark realm, and who would become a powerful asset to the world. She promised me no harm would ever come to you or your mother. When I heard of Mary Margaret's passing—"

"How did it feel?" Emma asked abruptly.

He stumbled over his words. "P—pardon?"

"How did it feel looking into the eyes of your beloved and banishing her to such a cruel world? Were you in internal turmoil as you relieved her of her bracelets and stole the color from her eyes?"

But she received no answer. Just the blankest of stares. So, she continued.

"I've performed that very task, as well, on someone I hold most dear to my heart. It's an emotional and intimate connection. In that moment, you share something with them. You share their fear, their concerns, their heartbreak. You look into their eyes and you can see into the very depths of their being. Even though, I was lifting banishment and not performing one, I couldn't fathom the burden of such a task. So tell me, _father_, how did you feel when you cast my mother and me out?"

"I do not regret that day. Fate has a peculiar way of things, and on these coming days, I'm more of a believer now than I ever was. When I cast you and your mother away that day, I will not lie; I was torn apart on the inside. Here I was, banishing the woman I loved, who was carrying my child—_my child!_ But she would never have left David for me. I would have been the one who suffered, and for what? A woman who cared nothing for me, who spat on my offering of love, marriage, and security? A daughter I would never be permitted to see, or claim as my own? So do not stand before me and presume you know all about me, because, my child, you know nothing of me, nor do you wish too."

He looked at her hard with disappoint in his eyes. He walked over to the portal and motioned toward it.

"The portal is at your disposal, whenever you're ready. It will take you where you need to go."

"You have the orbs?" Emma asked and Regina nodded in return.

"Then we wish to go to The Gray."

"Of course."

Regina walked over to the transcendent portal and placed the orb inside. Suddenly, and with a flash and pop, the orb was gone. Nothing felt different, but neither would find out until they tried.

"Before your leave," he began, "and now that you know of your true heritage, I would like to offer you a residence here in The White Realm. Regardless of our pasts, you are my _daughter_. You would sit on the council, alongside me, and you would never hurt for anything again."

"Is this offer just extended to me? We're together in this," she said looking to Regina. "Don't you think she deserves equal recognition as I?"

"She is a Mills. She was born of the dark realm and is the fallen Evil Queen. Her place isn't with us."

"But I am? I was born in the dark realm. I don the same scars and markings as she, yet I am offered a stay here … in the pure realm?"

"You are a Demigod of White. You're a Whiteborn. It's expected of you. Think of the life you could have here … in the fairest of all realms. You would be treated like the God you are. All these years you walked among ignorant people—people who were ignorant of your gifts—your status. They would have worshiped the ground you walked upon should they have known. But here … think of all you could do with that. Take my place on the High Council as Demigod of the White. The possibilities are endless."

"You think this is what I want in life? To be celebrated—worshiped? To have all the riches and spoils of the three? Have all this yet no one to share it with. I've been alone most of my life, and I no longer wish to continue that tradition."

"You'd find a suitable suitor here, my child. That is not even a question."

"_A suitable suitor? _ That sounds so … _promising!_ You cannot give me the life I want, and I refuse to settle for anything less," she spoke as she took Regina's hand in her own and led them into the transcendent portal. She asked Regina to grasp one end of the bars and she would grasp the other once it was time to depart.

"You wish for me to live here and take all the responsibilities of a Demigod? Well, until you offer _both_ of us a stay here, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your _generous_ offer." She smiled at him as her right hand hovered over the smooth grip bar.

Her parting words were, "I am Emma Swan, daughter of Mary Margaret, and the sister of Danny, and I do not have a father. So I say, to the Void with you!"

Then with a silent prayer to the Nineteen, she grasped the bar and Regina's hand with all her might and they disappeared from The White Realm.


	22. Chapter XVIII - Return to Gray

**Chapter XVIII - Return to Gray**

The wee morning hours had staked their claim on the realm as another sleepless night befell Cora. She sat in her favorite high-back chair and stared blankly into the far wall, twirling her finger and nail against the fabric armrest in a trance-like state.

Two loud knocks thundered into her chambers, but she didn't startle; her eyes the only thing that moved. The creak from the heavy wooden doors sounded and a young man stepped in with his head bowed.

"My Lady," he stated with a slight tremor to his voice. "The second portal has just been opened."

"Good," she said; pleased with the news. She stood and regarded her young messenger. "Did you slow them down?"

"As much as I could, Majesty."

Pleased with his answer, she walked over to her wine and tray and poured herself a healthy portion of red wine. She swirled it around in her large goblet and inhaled the scent with one large breath before taking a delicate sip. Her long fingernail tapped a constant clink against the glass as she smiled wickedly.

"Excellent."

The young man stood motionless as the former Queen approached him with grace, the hint of seduction painted across her lips and eyes. Smiling, she trailed a lone nail along the lad's jaw and smirked at the gooseflesh that followed. She moved in, cupped his face, and pressed her painted lips right next to his ear. She whispered lowly, "Let the foreigners through. Ready our men. The second that third portal is engaged, we make our move."

She pulled back, but not before placing a kiss where her lips had rested.

The young man swallowed, before answering her with affirmation. As he left, she gave him parting orders.

"Inform the others."

_So it begins. _She thought to herself.

* * *

They traveled through the space between realms and thankfully ended up within The Gray. Vertigo was affecting them both, because despite the portals now being functional, the elements surrounding them were still off—unbalanced, and it tore at their beings from the inside out. Emma fell against the metal wall, her hands reaching out to steady herself as she gasped for breath. The images around her swam. She saw Regina hunched against the opposite wall and went to hold her. She knew they were not alone, but that fact failed them completely as Regina stumbled out of the portal holding her mouth as she jerked away from Emma's grasp.

"Regina?" Emma called as she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that would calm the sea storm that had settled within her eyes. "Regina what is it? Tell me, please?" Emma spoke, reaching out to her and grasping a lean arm.

Regina turned on her with tears in her eyes. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you do that?"

Emma watched in confusion as Regina lost her composure, unaware and oblivious to those who watched them in curiosity and bafflement. Emma was beginning to feel like them; like she had just entered into a heated discussion midway through. What was she missing? "Do what?" she finally asked.

Regina gritted her teeth and clenched her fist in frustration. "He just offered you a place within The White! That is not often done! It's a great honor!"

"Honor?! Where the Void is this coming from? You despise them just as much as me."

"Yes, but that is where you belong!" she declared, and Emma's heart shattered at the statement. "You could do so much good there. You deserve it. You deserve to be there. After all the darkness that's seeped into your life, and tainted your blood, you, of all people have earned the right to finally see light. There's a new life there, just waiting for you to claim it."

Emma shook her head vehemently as she looked right into her eyes. She wanted to make herself clear—leave no room for doubt in Regina's mind. "I don't want that life. I've been to all three realms. I've seen how they all work. The Black was not for me, and the White is not for me. I want to be a resident of the Gray. The Black and White … it's one extreme to the other."

Still, Regina was persistent as she continued her argument. "Do you realize what you are giving up? You are the granddaughter of Orabela. The daughter of a demigod and you are a demigod by birth," she said as if that would make a difference in Emma's decision. "Your scars and markings can be wiped away—a clean slate."

Frustration built within the young woman as she jerked her hands in front of her, palms out. "These may be erased, but the evidence of them still will remain with me for the duration of my life. They'll always be with me. A reminder of who I was, who I am."

'Emma—"

"Is it so terrible that I want to be with you?" Emma suddenly asked.

Regina flinched, because no. No, it was not terrible. Regina desperately wanted the same—to be selfish. To live and be with Emma until the Gods decided otherwise.

Emma continued, "That invitation was not extended to you. Do you know how much that hurt? To have something offered to me and not to you—the person who has changed the most—for the better. To be asked to leave you behind? That's not a life I want. There is not happiness there."

"That's just it, Emma. You're turning away from something for me. I can't allow that. Not now, not with whom I've become."

Emma finally understood. Regina was trying to make amends to all that had happened to Emma because of her.

She took the few steps to the older woman and cupped tear-stained cheeks. Emma smiled sadly and looked at her with resolve. "This is my decision," she whispered, "and I'm making this very simple. I will be wherever you are, and if you don't want me in return … then that's fine. I'll understand. But just because you turn me away, doesn't mean I'll go to them. So, don't try that, either. My mind is made up, as long as you'll have me."

"Will you at least allow time for _me_ to think about this?" Regina asked. But she didn't need time, not really. She already knew where her heart laid, where she _wanted_ to be. Regardless, she still desired time alone to process through these myriad thoughts, time alone to make a sensible decision.

And she hated the fact she couldn't voice her intentions—couldn't ease the young woman's mind, especially seeing the hurt that shot across her features. But if she told her, Emma would no doubt sway her.

For Emma, the realization that she had not allowed for Regina's thoughts and feelings struck her hard. It was a sickening blow to her stomach, and she felt bile rise up within her throat. Had she been so blind and selfish not to see Regina's side? She stepped back, shock and pain blazing across her face as she blinked back tears.

"I—I'm sorry, Regina. I—I thought… I'm—" she paused and took a steadying breath. "Of course you can. I—"

"Shh," Regina whispered, cupping her cheek in reassurance. "All I ask for is time, Emma. I'll find you when I'm ready."

Emma nodded softly and watched as the raven-haired woman left the Sanctum with haste.

Nevertheless, Emma didn't have time to dread on Regina's departure until a meaty hand grabbed her own and another smacked her on the back. She winced and almost cried out at the pressure applied to her still damaged wrists. They hadn't had time to heal since her episode at The White. Perhaps she wasn't even fully healed from her deathly encounter with the ravencat. She gritted her teeth and bore the onslaught as she acknowledged her greeter. The man was an elder council member of The Gray. She couldn't remember his name but recognized his face. She never cared for the man—too handsy and brash for her liking. Inappropriate came to mind, but she forced a smile and indulged him.

"You two made quite an entrance," he began, his voice thundering in the gargantuan room. "I'm sure the Capital will be buzzing about this for weeks to come. We were told to be expecting you."

That caught her attention and her heart fluttered with relief. "Wha—What? How? Are the others here?" she asked in quick succession.

"No, we're expecting them anytime, however. But no, the ah … you established rudimentary connection for all the realms the second you left to come here."

Wait. That didn't make sense. They had just left from The White minutes prior. Not enough time had since passed to allow for such communications, had it? "We just came from there, not but minutes ago."

He stared blankly at her as if she should even question such logic. "The portal has been working for a couple of hours at the most. The others were obviously surprised by your arrival so they were gathering what belongings they had, then they were to travel here."

"A couple of hours?" she asked, baffled. Tha—that doesn't make sense."

"Well, ah, I don't know, young Adviser, but you're here now. That's what's important, right?" he asked with a chuckle. "Since you're here … and based upon our conversation, I would assume you and your friend just came from The White, correct?"

She nodded absentmindedly, her mind wondering and questioning as she mumbled, "We did, yes. And her name is Regina. Regina Mills."

His infuriating smiled fell from his face. "Ah, the fallen Queen of The Black Realm. Everything makes perfect sense now."

She glared at him. "That conversation was supposed to be private," she retorted. Agitation clear in her voice.

"Well, then you should have moved such a display to a more private setting instead of in the Spheric Sanctum were dozens of people congregate, especially nowadays with the threat of death looming over our heads. Come on," he said as he once again slapped her back in a lighthearted manner. "What happened to the young, easy going woman we sent out many weeks ago? I know she's still there."

"I'm sorry, sir. It's been an exhausting several weeks—emotionally and physically. I just … I guess I'm not quite myself."

"I think I can understand that," he said as he led her to the entryway, his hand still on her back. "Why don't you go home for a spell? Rest up. The portal will still be here tomorrow. You can worry about it then. Just rest."

"How can I rest when we can literally be a few seconds away from ending all this? That thing still looms up there … and as long as it does, I can't rest."

"We're doing last minute preparations," he began. "We need all the council members ready and waiting when you finally destroy it, and … we're not at that point. Three fourths aren't even at their respective realms, yet. So, please, just go home. Come back tomorrow morning and everything should be as it needs to be."

"It's your orders, sir."

"And I say rest. Do not worry, young one. I will tell the others of your arrival."

* * *

Emma left the Capital building for her modest resident tower. She passed through the main market and the delicious smells that wafted through the air made her mouth water. Her stomach growled in hunger, but she would wait and eat later with Regina.

The streets and market place seemed more crowded than usual, but again, it was early in the morning—the time for the best selections. She pressed on and ignored all the questioning glances sent her way. She donned robes of white, bandages with red splotches, had a severe limp, and markings of both black and gray. She realized she must be a sight. But as she passed by a small dining spot, a familiar voice called out.

"Em?!" the voice said.

Emma stilled her step and turned slowly to meet the questioning eyes of her friend and past lover.

"Em!" the woman said again, and as soon as her hazel eyes caught Emma's emerald, she ran and wrapped her in a crushing hug. Emma, surprised by the outburst, winced and screamed out as one of her fresh wounds split open again. "Oh, my Gods! You're alive! And you're hurt! Gods!" Kate spoke in a frenzy as she looked her over.

Emma grasped her wrists in pain as she tried to ease the throb traveling up her arm. At first, Emma didn't understand Kate's confusion, but it soon dawned on her. Both Ryker and she had simply disappeared without a trace or word. No more thought had been given to the few people they left behind.

"No one told you?"

"What?! No, no you just … _left_," she explained as she rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "I didn't know what happened."

"They sent me to The Black as an adviser."

She could see the questions racing through her mind.

"But you're a Scout."

"Yeah, well, I've taken on two titles now, and more are to come before this is all over with. More titles than I'm afraid I can bear."

"You always did love your work. Even I could see that. It _was … is_ your life. I'm glad you have that," it came out slightly bitter, and Emma couldn't blame her for that.

Then, someone called out to Kate—a young man about her age had stepped out of the eatery. He was calling and waving for her. "I better go—" she started, but Emma called out to her as she turned.

Regardless of their turbulent past, Kate had always been a dear friend. A friend that, looking back on it, deserved far better than the treatment and neglect Emma had put her through the past years. Emma saw it now, as she had always seen it but never cared to admit it, and thought an apology was well over due. It wasn't meant to mend a broken and failed relationship, or to lessen guilt. It was an acknowledgment of mistakes and wrongdoings. A truce.

"Kate, I—I just wanted … I'm sorry for how I treated you," she began. "You offered me a way out. You offered me everything anyone coulda asked for, and I walked all over it. Just please know that I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

Kate seemed to let those long overdue words sink in. She pursed her lips as she studied Emma's intent. She looked away back to the gentleman who was signaling her before speaking again with Emma. "No, I didn't," she said tersely. But her eyes softened when she saw the small amount of blood dripping from her wrists. "You should get to the infirmary." Then with a soft smile and roll of her eyes, she said, "You look like shit, Em. But your eyes … I don't think I've ever seen them brighter."

Emma grinned in embarrassment and pure joy as her mind instantly went to Regina and the time: past, present, and future that they spent and had to spend together. "And that _smile_. I'm glad you're happy. You deserve it."

* * *

Regina stared in awe at the cityscape surrounding her. If she had thought The White to be a shock, then there were no words to describe how overwhelmed she was here in The Gray. The early morning sun alit the sky with vigor as the rays reflected off the various metal and glass buildings. The city shimmered in the light.

She still couldn't understand how the metal bracelets adorning her wrists could manipulate objects, never the less, open doors and turn on lights with the simple flick of her hand. Emma had not yet explained this fantastical world. Perhaps, she regretted leaving Emma so soon for she could have used her patience, quirkiness, and understanding now as she stood ignorant to this exceptional kingdom.

The amazement lied in the question of how three realms could differ in so many ways. The Black was brutal and archaic in every way imaginable. The White was majestic and regal with more sophisticated methods than the dark kingdom. And The Gray? The Gray was advanced in ways the other two couldn't even comprehend. The White and Black, despite their differences, were conservative; stuck in their ways, unwelcoming to change. Traditional. But The Gray ignored the rules and made their own. Uncaring of traditions and only looking forward, toward the future.

It was no wonder Emma chose this kingdom over the others.

She stood quietly, resting against the balcony just taking it all in when she heard footsteps. She closed her eyes, imagining Emma had found her, but when she turned, expecting to see her tall form with light brown hair and expressive eyes, she was met with red like her own.

"Darcy?"

The older gentleman bowed deeply as he looked to her with a pleasant grin. "Your Majesty, it's so good to see you again. I was afraid the foreign roads might have made claim to you and Miss Swan."

Regina shook her head and approached her dear friend returning the smile in earnest. But she faltered as she took in his tense stance. His grin was his cover; she knew it all too well. She answered him and awaited what he had to say. "All is well, Darcy."

He clasped his hands and took a steadying breath before speaking in hushed tones. "I have the information you requested at the beginning, My Lady."

"Oh? And?"

He hesitated and Regina's breath hitched in her throat. "Your mother did not want this to fail. There is no way to stop the collapse, unless the person who holds the energy source … goes into the portal as well. A life force must be introduced to the portal as the orb is placed. I'm so sorry to bring you such news, Your Majesty."

It was obvious he was ignorant to Cora's improbable reemergence from death. If so, he would have vehemently warned her against Cora's possible and likely plot. But, alas, he didn't, and it proved one more thing Regina remained in the dark about; another unspoken truth woven into the multifaceted layers of her life.

She paled as she listened to every word he uttered. She had been warned, most recently by her own father. This should have been expected, and it wasn't very surprising, but it still hurt her in ways she didn't even know she could hurt. It stole the breath from her lungs, the strength from her legs, and the force behind her heart. It ripped the light right from her soul. "Death … that's what lies beyond the portal, correct?"

She heard an audible swallow. "I fear that's likely so, Majesty. It will become too unstable to sustain life."

Then she heard him move closer, the wind of his movement catching her skin. She turned away and held up her hand, silently asking him to stop. "Thank you for your extensive research on this, Darcy."

"My Lady?"

"She always took everything away from me. Why would now, even in her death, would things be any different. Do you have all this information written down?"

"Aye, My Lady." She heard him reach into his pocket and the sound of crinkled paper filled the air. Agile fingers took the yellowed and stained paper from his hold and she quickly slipped it into her own pocket.

"Give me the night," she said. "I'll speak with you come morning. I have a feeling I know what must be done."

* * *

Not long had passed before Emma found herself at the local infirmary. She had a splitting headache and her arms ached and throbbed from her hands all the way to her shoulders. These past few months had really taken a toll on her, and to be honest, she didn't know how much more her body could take before breaking completely. Luckily, they were right at the end of this catastrophe. In mere hours, everything would go back as it should. The imminent doom looming over all them would cease to exist. She would have her life back and Regina could finally start hers over again. Maybe together they could bring each other the happiness they both so desperately wanted.

She sat at a small cot as a healer left to fetch medical supplies, leaving her with no more than a damp medicated cloth to wipe the blood from her. Sitting out in the open, she saw all the commotion about the common room, but most went unnoticed. She had better things—more important things to occupy her mind. But then she heard it: the soft gasp of surprise. She looked up, and to her greatest respite, she saw Regina.

"How'd ya find me?" Emma asked as she scooted over to make room for Regina to sit down.

"I came here to purchase some medicinal herbs and tonic and I saw you walk in."

"Purchase? You have coin?"

"I sold a couple of my things," she said, not caring to elaborate further. "I knew your injuries were still in their early stages, and I was low. I am glad I did," she said as she gently took Emma's hands within her own and examined the freshly reopened wounds.

The healer came in before Regina could treat them herself and began applying various salves and ointments. After the healer left, Regina scowled with the poor job, but seemed begrudged to admit it satisfied the needs for the time being. So, she let it be. She'd just rewrap it later when need be.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air after the healer left. Emma never recalled such awkwardness between them before. There was a certain tension there as well. However, Regina kept her place by Emma's side, never moving an inch as they remained in contact side-by-side.

Emma cleared her throat and said, "My commanding officer told me the portals are stable enough to go home and get some rest. So, um, I guess I'm goin' home. We have an extra bed if you'd like to stay, if not, there are several guest lodgings throughout the city. I could help you find one."

Regina stared at her hands as she wrung them nervously. "Is that what you wish?" she asked in a whisper.

"What? No! No, I just … I just wanted you to be comfortable. I mean … you asked for time."

Dispirited, Regina nodded. "I wish to be with you."

That earned her a sad smile as Emma laced their fingers together. She squeezed lightly, being mindful of her wrapped wrists.

She hooked a finger under Regina's chin and lifted her gaze to meet her own. That's when she noticed the tightness in her eyes and cheeks, which were red as well. "Hey, you've been crying?" she asked, concerned as she rubbed at reddened cheeks.

Regina stilled the movement of the hands with her own and brought each one up to her lips to press the softest of kisses against the rough skin. She looked at Emma pleadingly as she implored, "May we just go home?"

_Home_. That one word caused a tearful smile to spread ear to ear on the young woman's face. She laughed and kissed her. "Yeah," she sniffed and wiped the moisture away from her nose and eyes. "Let's go home."


	23. Chapter XIX - Home

**AN: Okay! So, this chapter, out of all one's I've written so far, was probably the hardest to write. I had this idea in my head of how I wanted this chapter to play out and I don't know if I did it justice. But, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. :) **

**No beta so all mistakes are my own.**

* * *

**Chapter XIX - Home**

Late evening swept over the Capital and both women found themselves safely tucked away in Emma's residence. It was a cool mid-spring evening on this forty-fifth day of the Eclipse of Dawn. Cool enough that it allowed Emma the pleasure of lighting her beloved hearth aglow. Fire had always given her hope—life. Fire gave light, warmth, morale, and, on occasion, a full belly. When one had fire, he or she was never truly alone. So even in this modest home, where a fire was not necessary, it flooded it with life.

Regina took note of the simplicity of the space and how it differed in its own unique way from any of the other realms, or the small village. The hard lines that made up the space appeared clean and true. The geometric design alluded confidence—something very much Emma. But Regina had a difficult time envisioning her young friend, who was the epitome of humbleness and sensibility, calling such a place home. It was so glaringly different from the young girl who trudged around with tattered, torn, and stained clothes, hair mussed, with a huge toothy grin upon her face—proud of the fresh kill thrown over her shoulder. Regina witnessed that same young girl in the few months they had spent together in the hollows. But as Emma moved about the small home, Regina realized, she adapted seamlessly, because, whereas, the environment might have changed, the atmosphere was all Emma. The smells, the smallest and grandest of touches spoke volumes to its inhabitant. The sweet, heady aroma of mulled wine steeping, the lightness of citrus and various herbs, the warmth, both physically and mentally emitted from the small hearth. It all showcased tenderness.

She followed Emma back to what she assumed were the sleeping quarters.

Emma had suggested a change of clothes, something that Regina would not argue with. The linens Kaleisha had been so generous to provide, where filthy and in need of a good tailor to be truly comfortable.

So, after no more than a few minutes time, Emma returned freshly clothed and had Regina's clothes in hand.

Emma donned loose fitting, faded gray breeches with a silk white button-up shirt and an unbuttoned black vest. Emma moved fluently and Regina couldn't help but believe Emma felt most comfortable in the casual clothing. She had brought Regina back a standard ivory silk robe that appeared a staple in the Gray. It was sewn together from the high waist down, but the bodice had to be secured with a decorative straight pin for any modesty. The thin robe swallowed her small frame, but after a few small alterations with the ties, it clung to her frame in the most pleasant of ways. She sighed as she ran a hand over the front of the robe, smoothing out the garment. It was an old, steadying habit.

Mimicking Emma's casualness, she stepped out of the room barefoot, but noticed the occasional hand stitched rug stole the hardness and coolness from the smooth stone floor.

She blushed as Emma's eyes traveled the length of her, wordlessly taking her all in.

Emma inhaled sharply with how incredibly young she looked with the youthful, loose fitting garment and her long flowing hair tied back in a single braid. Her crimson eyes danced with splendor from the soft dome lights of the room.

That's when she noticed it. A familiar object hung around her slender neck, falling over her pronounced collarbone.

"My necklace," she spoke in wonderment as she walked to the older woman, her gaze moving from Regina's eyes to her neck. She hesitated as she lifted her hand and allowed her fingers to trace the necklace. "I can't believe you kept it after all these years."

Regina smiled as she covered Emma's hand with her own, stilling her fingers over the soft skin of her neck. "Of course I kept it. It was yours, a part of you," as she spoke, she brought a calloused hand to her mouth and placed several kisses against her palm and fingers before pulling Emma forward and kissing her lips.

It didn't take long for the kisses to turn heated as their bodies desperately sought after something they had denied themselves for so long. Whereas the time grew nearer, it was not at this moment. Emma pulled back, out of breath as she looked into darkening eyes. She swallowed and spoke, "Let's get some food and wine in our bellies, then we can rest for what short time we have. I think we've earned that," she finished with a soft smile.

That they had.

Soon, the soft sound of metal clinking against metal could be heard throughout the common room of the home. Emma had been stirring the kettles that rested at the edge of the hearth. One contained a simple broth and the other, a fine mulled wine.

Emma had noticed Regina standing in front of her large window. Her gaze was glassy as she looked out at the darkened cityscape. She walked up to her and placed a calming hand on her lower back. Regina had simply been perplexed by the change in living compared to her old world.

"I can understand why you adore this place so. It is magnificent here," the older woman said softly, the awe in her voice unmistakable.

Emma just laughed as her mind forged a memory of her first time here. "Yeah, y'know, Ma always spoke of glorious kingdoms beyond ours. Out of all the possible things I imagined, nothing was ever like this. So you can imagine my shock when I first arrived here."

"Probably similar to mine, darling," Regina spoke with amusement.

"I think I actually blacked out in the Spheric Sanctum."

Regina looked at her disbelievingly. She could have seen herself doing such a thing, but not the experienced free transcender. "Truly?" she asked.

Emma snorted. "Truly, I mean … it was my first experience with transcendence, like _that_. It was stronger—more powerful than I was used to, and I was very young. Terrified, actually. But now, living here, it's everything I dreamed of and more … but, it's always been missing something," she said. "_You_."

A faint blush rushed over the older woman's skin at Emma's not so subtle words. With all they had been through together, it was fascinating how her words still affected her. They made her feel young and open once again.

Some time must have passed between them, because she saw Emma staring at her anxiously. Like Regina's lack of response put her on edge; afraid that she had misspoken in some way. But before Regina could speak, Emma spoke.

"I always told you we'd escape together," she said; her voice soft and deep—full of untold emotion. "I'm just sorry it took so long. I hope I'm not too late."

The statement stole the breath from Regina's lungs. _Never_, she wanted to say, and so she did. "I truly believe I could have been an old crone, minutes from death, and you would not have been too late."

Emma pulled her in close and kissed her; something she would never tire of.

A small shiver traveled up Regina's spine and she shook within Emma's arms. The draft from the pane window was partially responsible, but it wasn't the sole cause.

Emma noticed and began to lead her to the hearth. "Come on, we'll go over where it's warm."

* * *

It wasn't much later, after they had finished what supper they had, that both women found themselves in the commons area of Emma's home. The comfortably sized divan was bypassed in favor of the floor which was warmed nicely from the blazing fire. Emma's back rested against the front of the divan and she called Regina to her. "Hey, c'mere," she asked. Without hesitation, she nestled herself between two protective, strong thighs as her back met Emma's front. This allowed them the close proximity both craved. The safety they so endlessly pursued.

Emma called the lights to her receptors and the room darkened, the only light emitted by the flames in the fireplace.

"It amazes me so," Regina spoke as her fingers traced the now glowing, yet cool, bands on Emma's wrists. "I'm still transfixed with it all, I suppose."

Emma chuckled in her ear as her lips placed gentle kisses against the skin there. "That's natural. When I first learned, my mentors teased me. They said I sat on my bed and called the lights back and forth—off and on, for hours at a time. I can teach you if you'd like. It's easy."

Regina wanted to protest, because it was gift practiced for many years, and took persistence and dedication to master. Yet Emma appeared willing to teach her.

She nodded and Emma smiled.

"You just … call them," she explained just like she was explaining why the sky was painted blue or why the moons shined so bright at night, as if it was something natural. If the air around them hadn't been so thick and heated, exploding with untold desires, Regina would have rolled her eyes in playful irritation.

Instead, Emma pulled her closer, her front to Regina's back and interlaced the fingers of their right hands.

"Focus on the lights," Emma whispered. "Whether you want 'em lit or not. Where the energy passes—_how_ the energy passes. It goes from here," she said grasping Regina's wrist for emphasis, "to there," she said again, this time motioning toward the light, "and so on. Command it with you mind. Feel the light pass through your fingers and settle at your wrists."

Regina was breathing deeply and Emma's tone had taken on a husky quality. But before she realized what was happening, one of the lights dimmed, going out completely, and ended up at her receptor.

Emma grinned proudly as she hugged Regina even closer.

"See?!" she exclaimed in elation.

Regina just gaped at her receptor in astonishment. With tentative fingers, she traced the now glowing bracelet. Emma held her close and let the pivotal moment sink in as she herself recalled how much progress and change they both had experienced in such a short amount of time. To her relief, most of the change had been for the better. Sure, they had faced many tribulations and trials, but in her opinion, it had only succeeded in making them stronger. Not but a few months prior, Regina had been imprisoned—held captive and secluded in her own Void on Earth. Void of love, happiness, and life—void of all the rights passed down by the gods to humans, yet here she sat, encased within Emma's protective embrace. Regina's chance at happiness began now, whether it would be with her or not, Emma didn't know, but she could hope Regina's happiness could be with her.

For Emma, those same months prior had been lived halfheartedly. She went through the daily routine as air filled her lungs and her heart pushed life through her body. She had been surviving, not living. The only emotion she felt was emptiness and an ache that never dulled. But, here _she_ sat, with the one person who completed her, nestled safely within her arms. For the first time in many years, Emma wished to cry; express tears of joy and relief, for this is how she envisioned life.

"This has been some crazy journey, eh?" Emma finally whispered against the shell of Regina's ear. She felt her break from her trance and trembled at the unexpected sensation.

Regina swallowed as she formed her next sentence. "Indeed it has," she began. "But I do not regret one second. I believe we have learned more about each other than we ever would have otherwise. I've learned your many strengths, as well as your weaknesses, and I know you've witnessed mine, as well. And I think that's a beautiful thing."

Emma snorted in a slightly self-deprecating manner. "Yeah, 'cause haulin' my limp body around the hollows told you plenty 'bout my strengths, or lack thereof," she said trying to make it seem as if she was teasing, being lighthearted. However, that was until she noticed the flinch in Regina's eyes and neck.

Emma had felt weak—powerless on those days. She knew it had been out of her control, but Regina had experienced far too much negative to, in turn, have to care for Emma the way she did. Emma cursed at herself for such impuissance. But her time was now, and she would gladly give Regina everything she had to offer. She would give back all that Regina had given to her and more.

"You were strong out there when I couldn't be," Emma spoke in earnest. "You saved us. Thank you … for what you did for me … for _us_ … and for the three."

Regina shook her head, disagreeing. "You needn't—"

"But I do."

Emma looked at her. Truly looked at her and took the time to trace every inch of her face in the soft, golden light. At this moment, with them impossibly close, sharing the same breath, she noted how much of her dispiritedness had dissipated, and how she reflected more hope and contentment than she had seen in a lifetime. However, something else remained hidden away; carefully masked. And that scared Emma, because the unknown—that uncertainty was perhaps more terrifying than the most fearsome of beasts, because what she saw radiated anguish and insurmountable pain. For tonight, however, that fleeting flicker of _something_ , was outweighed by far more pleasant emotions, and Emma was set to see those through. That was what Regina deserved, above all.

Emma's fingers drew lines from her temple, across her cheeks, down her jaw, only to settle upon plump lips that parted involuntary at the light touch.

Regina's eyes shimmered in the dancing light, and Emma wondered for a moment if she had ever seen her so unguarded—_beautiful_.

"Gods, you're beautiful," Emma declared; her voice full of ardor. "It still seems like a dream, even after these past months … it's like, I still can't believe you're here with me. I mean, you're really here, in The Gray, in my home, in my arms. I had lost all hope." Her tone held a tremor and Regina's heart ached at the confession.

Emma's next declaration died on her tongue as Regina kissed her.

"I know you don't believe it, but you deserve happiness, Regina. You deserve _so_ much happiness. You above all … and I will gladly spend the rest of my life reminding you of that imperative fact," Emma spoke gently as her eyes slid shut and she lifted her head enough to brush her lips against the smooth plane of the older woman's neck. She heard and felt the sharp intake of air as a pair of hands found support around her shoulders. She took a deep breath before continuing. "You deserve so much, and I would give my all to ensure you have everything you deserve … to make you happy," and Emma sealed each avowal with an impassioned kiss.

"You already do. You make me happy, so unbelievably happy," Regina began but stopped short of completing her thought. Should she voice such feelings?

Emma, sensing her love's turmoil, encouraged her softly to continue. "Say it, please."

"But I'm terrified I will end up hurting you more than I already have. I'm scared you will eventually see me for who I am—my past, because deep down, Emma, though I'm ashamed to voice such thoughts, that person is me. And once you realize this, you will leave me. You will leave me in the end. You'll find out in awful detail who I was, who I had become, what I've done, and you'll leave. And I'll lose everything once again. Resilience was never in my character, each blow I take breaks me even more, and I don't know if I could take another blow such as that."

Regina was crying by the time she finished, and the sheer fear and torment she heard laced within the fallen Queen's words tore her to pieces. She wanted nothing more than to pickup each delicate piece, one-by-one, and help make this strong woman whole again. She wanted to do the one thing no one else had ever had the will, desire, or fortitude to do.

"I never wish to hurt you, but I'm human, as are you. And because of that, we make mistakes, _I_ make mistakes, and mistakes _can_ hurt people, especially those we hold most dear. I love you, Regina, and I want to try this—us. Tonight, it can be just us, and tomorrow… it is a new day. But I want to try because you are worth everything … and I want to show you that. That you are someone so unbelievably special, and you deserve to be loved as such."

"I love you, I always have, and I want … I want _you_," Regina whispered with so much love and adoration that Emma swore she felt her heart slam against her chest and her grip tightened against their now interlaced fingers.

Regina did her best to steady them, to steady their labored breaths and racing hearts, but she didn't wait too long before she moved closer, erasing the already minute distance between them, and brought their lips together.

This kiss was much different than the first they had shared not but a few moons ago. Where that kiss had been tentative and gentle, this kiss was certain and filled with passion. They both knew what they wanted this time, and there was no going back. They were about to give into something both women had yearned for for so long: the love and affection of another.

The kiss deepened and Emma allowed her body to succumb to the feeling of delicate hands brushing and gliding along her cheeks. Their lips continued their dance as the fallen Queen's surprisingly strong fingers pressed into her cheek and encouraged their kisses further, each drawing deeper. Emma vaguely registered the soft pressure of movement and before she could open her eyes, Regina broke the kiss, lips not but a hair's breadth apart, and moved in to straddle her hips.

But as she did, Regina's knee caught the still sensitive and tender wound on her thigh. Emma gasped out in surprise and pain and Regina immediately went to move.

Emma knew Regina was mentally rebuking her actions as the older woman went to pull away. But she would not have that. Not if she had a say in it. These wounds had been her burden, her downfall for the entire span of the journey, and she would be damned to the Void before she allowed them to take this moment from her—from them.

"No, stay."

"Don't … you're still hurt."

"Hey, I'm all right," Emma reassured her. "I've got you. Just stay, please."

"I—I do not wish to hurt you."

"The tonic has numbed the pain … made me stronger. I'm all right, if you are?"

With a soft nod, Emma drew Regina closer, encasing her in an intimate embrace. She traced her tongue over full lips, softly urging Regina to part them. Regina granted her entry with a quiet moan as four of her senses became overwhelmed. The taste, touch, smell, and feel of the woman whom she had pledged her love to felt intoxicating. Moments ticked by as the two women lost themselves in the languid kiss that was both slow and exhilarating. It left them with a deep seated longing—a feeling neither was willing to ignore any longer.

Emma pulled back first and looked into darkened mahogany eyes. They held a certain fierceness—unbridled desire, yet interestingly enough, spoke tenderness and love. It took her breath away.

"I want to make love to you this night," Emma whispered as she pulled Regina's hips closer. "Show you how much I love you—how much you are truly loved. I wish to show you how much you mean to me … if you'll allow me, but only if you're ready, Regina. For all you've been through …"

"No more waiting … not for this. Not knowing what tomorrow might bring," Regina breathed against the heated flesh of Emma's cheek. Her hands rested on strong shoulders as they occasionally left to brush through the soft hairs at the base of Emma's head. She trembled as graceful fingers moved up and down her back, gooseflesh forming with each pass.

Gods, Emma almost lost all sense of control once those words had been uttered from the fallen Queen's mouth. Her eyes slammed shut as a violent shudder ripped down her spine, caressed her thighs, and quickly settled between her legs. Her eyes remained heavy, but she opened them and locked gazes with her lover.

What she saw there was breathtakingly beautiful. There, within those deep and dark crimson eyes, emotions were read like a book. They were showcased proudly and without contempt. Emma saw love, respect, wonder, and maybe the slightest of fear. But that single emotion was hastily being pushed aside as Emma's hands tucked underneath her thighs, bracing herself for when she went to stand.

But any thought of moving was whooshed away in one breath when soft lips found the way to Emma's neck and fingers fumbled blindly with her blouse buttons.

"You deserve a bed," Emma said as she regarded the woman sitting astride her hips with much fervor.

Regina could not help the bright smile that broke free. Emma's words meant more to her than any she had ever heard. They were honest and beautiful, and they made Regina's stomach flutter with excitement. "We'll get there, darling," she spoke as she lowered her mouth to the smooth skin of Emma's neck.

Her hands traced down Emma's cheeks, neck, and came to rest right at her collarbone before moving down and clutching desperately at her hips. She felt Emma respond just as eagerly as one hand found purchase in her long, dark locks, and the other grazed her lower back. When Emma reached the opening of her robe, her fingers unlatched the pin and guided the garment open. She slipped deft fingers underneath the fabric, caressing skin for the first time, and pushed the material over defined shoulders. Regina moaned softly as she felt nimble fingers splay out across the rough skin of her back.

Not one person had touched her—truly, intimately touched her since her imprisonment. The disgusting marks that rose against her flesh made her own stomach knot in repugnance, so she couldn't even imagine the repulsion someone else—_Emma_, might feel. The thought alone made her self-conscious, because her markings were the last thing she wanted Emma to see—to feel, and she certainly didn't want them to be the cause of any hesitation. Who would want to touch something so maimed … blemished? She felt damaged beyond repair—beyond saving, but with each considerate brush, every affectionate touch and kiss, and the tenderness bored into her very soul through Emma's expressive eyes, Regina could feel the beginnings of healing.

"Regina," Emma whispered longingly as she cupped the back of Regina's neck and brought their mouths together once again. "You are so beautiful."

They had finally made it out of the small commons area, and had moved to the more intimate location of Emma's bedroom.

Regina walked toward the center of the room and turned around when she heard the doors snick shut and the lock guided swiftly into place, sealing them away together, if not for but a few hours. Thoughts of what obstacles and troubles awaited morning were long forgotten. Tonight was their night, and they would treat it as if it were their last; although, neither woman wanted to allow that dark and ominous thought the luxury of passing within their mind.

Regina smiled nervously as Emma drew near. Why was she so nervous? This was not new territory, but it felt immensely different. Almost as if there were new and undiscovered emotions at play, and perhaps there were.

The younger woman approached her lover, gently cradling her face within her hands, and pressed small kisses against her brow, cheek, and nose, before connecting their lips.

"I love you, Regina Mills, you are my love, and I want to make you the happiest woman in these worlds if you'll let me," Emma spoke softly as she stroked her cheek.

Regina swallowed thickly and nodded only because she couldn't form words at the moment. Finally, she was able to speak. "I love you, too," Regina stuttered as Emma trailed her fingers across her cheeks, down her throat, and coming to rest right over her heart.

"I want you," Emma mumbled against the shell of Regina's ear; her hand tracing patterns across her chest; directly over her fiercely beating heart. "May I make love to you?" She asked softly. She was rewarded with a small shudder and the motion of her nodding before lips claimed her own.

"Please … Emma," Regina breathed against her lips.

Emma broke the kiss and looked at Regina's form with wonder and tenderness. Her hands trailed down Regina's body, finally coming to rest at the back of her thighs where her hands lifted the loose fabric to bunch around her waist. She gave an upward motion with her hand and soon hoisted Regina up onto her. Long legs wrapped around her waist as she carried Regina over to the bed.

Soon, Regina was fighting Emma's clothes with zeal, deciding she had waited long enough to be with her beloved in the most intimate of ways. Smooth ivory discs slipped from their restraints as inch by beautiful inch of pale skin was exposed. The tips of her fingers were occasionally met with the silky plane of Emma's chest, the valley between her breasts, and her abdomen. Regina's kisses never faltered as she slipped the blouse free of Emma's shoulders and peppered them with loving kisses.

Emma felt nimble fingers retreat to the front of her pants where they grasped at her belt. She felt the fumbling and finally the release of the buckle in which the belt was slipped through the holdings and tossed absentmindedly to the side. With a slight nudge, her pants cascaded down her legs before resting with flutter on the floor. They never broke their kiss as Emma blindly stepped out and away from her clothes. She was left in nothing more than her unbutton blouse that rested at her elbows and back, and her modest undergarments.

She moved to draw the energy away from the softly glowing lights when a hand lifted and caressed her own, stopping the pull. Emma looked down at the beautiful woman beneath her, and held her gaze. "I would like to see you," Regina whispered shyly. "So I can always remember. I want to remember … _everything_."

And no truer statement had ever been uttered. This would be Regina's last night—her last night with her truest and only love. Her last moments with the only person who had ever cared enough to save her—to give her a chance. Emma had been the only one to deem her worthy of saving. Why? She would probably never understand. Perhaps, that was just in Emma's nature; to see the best in people—to see the best in _her_.

Regina's breathing increased as Emma's lips brushed against her own. Her heart pounded within her chest and she was sure she'd faint from the sheer pleasure her body was experiencing.

"My dearest Regina …" Emma whispered shakily against her ear and Regina shuddered from the sound alone.

"Make love to me, Emma … make love _with_ me … please," Regina whispered.

Their contact was broken only momentarily as Emma pulled away. Regina opened her eyes and was greeted by the most beautiful sight. Her hand went straight to Emma's face as she traced her features, trying to commit it all to memory as the soft light illuminated the area around them in a soft glow. The image took her breath away. They had come so far, and tonight, their love was proof of that.

"I love you," Emma spoke passionately as she claimed Regina's lips once more.

Not long after, all remnants of clothing were shed as both women lay bare to the other. Their forms were silhouetted in the ethereal light from the wall domes shinning ever so softly. Touches were felt as strong and determined arms wrapped around each other.

"Gods, you're fucking beautiful, do you know that?"

Regina felt strong and protective hands caress her thighs as she was carefully pulled onto Emma's lap. Their normal height difference was reversed as it was Regina who now looked down at her love. Her eyes were heavy with desire, but she closed them taut as slightly rough hands whispered across her upper legs.

Regina clutched desperately to her lover's back as Emma settled against the most intimate part of her. "Emma," she gasped and her eyes slammed shut. She was feeling too much already as her body trembled from the myriad of emotions spilling into her heart and soul. Never had she allowed someone so close. Never had she allowed her heart to be so completely taken by another. Never had she been filled with so much love and tenderness. Her breath was stolen at each loving touch and as jade eyes glossed over—filled with unspent desire, bored into her, setting her body alight. Regina's gaze never left the sparkling depths of emerald as her arms moved to caress Emma's neck and allowed her closer to the young woman who she had idolized for so long. Their gaze was passionate, and it simply entranced Regina. With as much tenderness as she could bring forth, she reached up and brushed Emma's long hair away from her face before moving to cup a heated cheek. They were close. Breathing the same air. Filling each other with new life after each breath.

"Emma," Regina breathed, barely above a whisper. She leaned down and brushed their lips together softly before completely enclosing Emma's lips within her own. It was brief as they moved together in tandem. Regina pulled back the slightest, still remaining within a breaths distance of Emma. Her hand that had remained at Emma's cheek moved shakily over to trace full lips with her thumb. Soft kisses were placed upon it as it retreated and the motion shot tremors through Regina's body. The beautifully strong woman beneath her, who looked to her with so much adoration, had completely divested Regina of her armor and had buried herself deep within Regina's very being. It was the most terrifyingly beautiful sensation she had and would ever encounter. Right now, as darkened maroon eyes settled on darkened jade, there was no force within the realms or the realms beyond that could match this moment.

Regina released her grip long enough to comb back the long blonde locks that had fallen into her lover's face. She held them in place as she looked at her beloved. "I love you, Emma … so much," she uttered before lowering her head and connecting their lips.

Both women took their time. There was no need in rushing or fumbling through such a powerful moment because the time for that would come soon enough. For now, it was simply about exploring and discovering each other. Their bodies were unfamiliar lands, just waiting to be claimed and uncovered.

Regina inhaled sharply as she was overpowered with sensations. Emma was all around her: underneath her, within her, against her, and, most importantly, loving her with every touch, kiss, caress, breath, and sparkle in her eyes. It was all there, in front of her, encasing her, and she was falling beautifully into it. This was where she was meant to be. Out of all her trials, out of all her trespasses, everything she suffered; she was finally being loved and giving all her love in return.

Soon, their movements became one as their souls united; their bodies rising higher and higher but never fully cresting. They moved rhythmically to the sound of a silent beat, the pulsing of their heartbeats, the rush of their breath, and the blood within their veins was the only metronome for them to follow.

Regina buried her hands within golden locks as her eyes slammed shut and breathing increased, along with her raging heartbeat.

Suddenly, Regina had this immense desire to _see_ Emma. She wanted to look into her eyes as they made this ultimate show of intimacy, trust, and love, when they both were at their strongest and their most vulnerable. Out of all that she has witnessed with her eyes, both good and bad, this moment alone would supersede all previous, because in this moment, it was just them: two beings connecting as one.

"Emma?" she managed to ask as her voice broke from both exertion and passion. When her eyes found their mate, she whispered, "Will you … will you look at me?"

Emma stilled her movements as she looked into eyes that were brimming with warmth and devotion. She resumed her motions as deft fingers gracefully found their way across Regina's chest, up her neck, and securely laced themselves through her thick hair. "Always," Emma breathed against her lips. "Forever and always." She closed the remaining distance and kissed Regina with all she was worth, allowing all the love she harbored to rush into the woman.

"I love you … please let go for me," she whispered against Regina's lips as their pace increased. Regina shuddered with a quiet gasp as she released; Emma not far behind her.

They clutched each other desperately as their bodies settled and minds cleared.

"I love you, too," Regina whispered as she brushed damp hair away from her lover's face.

"My dearest Regina," she softly spoke as she reached down and grasped Regina's left hand. She guided it to her face and kissed each finger and her palm. Her lips ghosted over the rough skin forever marred before interlacing their fingers. They both smiled as their matching bracelets connected. They signified all the vicissitudes both women had suffered and endured, but they also signified hope and redemption. They may have come from the darkest of places, but they escaped the darkness together and with the help and perseverance of each other.

"How have I come to deserve you?" Regina asked as her breathing had finally slowed.

Emma smiled and brushed some damp strands of hair from her face. "You were just you, Regina," she said. "You are so loveworthy, and I love each and every part of you. _Every part_. Even the parts you don't see worthy of love, because they are _you_. But you deserve this and so much more. We both do. _We _both deserve this. For once in our life, we deserve this break—this chance at happiness."

Emma applied the smallest amount of pressure to her cheeks and brought their lips together for a gentle kiss. A kiss that sealed and signified every word they had just uttered.

"Thank you," Regina whispered against Emma's lips.

They continued their lovemaking well into the wee morning hours. At times, they would fall asleep underneath the thin blankets, naked and intertwined, as they made up for years lost. But now, they were connected in the most intimate of ways. Two souls—two hearts that now beat as one.

"Close your eyes, love," Emma whispered reverently as she looked into sated crimson orbs. Regina did as she was asked, and as soon as they fluttered closed, Emma lifted her right hand and gently trailed her hand over Regina's face—from her brow to chin. Her forefinger and ring finger glided over closed eyelids. When Emma finished, she smiled and leaned forward to brush her lips against her eyelids. "You can open your eyes now," Emma said quietly and she watched with bated breath as beautiful brown eyes opened to greet her.

"I felt it," the older brunette spoke as tears unwillingly gathered within her eyes and began to spill out.

Emma smiled and said, "They don't own you anymore."

* * *

**I would love to know what you thought of this chapter … what worked, maybe what didn't. I love feedback because it gives me something to work toward, helps me grow and improve. So, to everyone who has left feedback thus far in the story, please know how much I appreciate it. It's a wonderful gift from anyone who takes the time to write one. On a side note, this is the last chapter I have pre-written, so updates will now probably come weekly. Thanks for reading! :) **

****Just to clarify after a few questions I've received about eye color. The Gray Realm's eye colors are supposed to be just like our natural colors, so there's a variety. They can be green, brown, blue, etc, whereas the Black is red and the White is gold. The person's irises are only vacant or uncolored when they are "sent / banished" to another realm. Once he or she arrives at the respective realm, then they take on the eye color of that realm. ****


	24. Chapter XX - A Great Injustice

**A/N: I had a couple of question last chapter regarding eye colors. I added an author's note at the end of that chapter, but because I added it several days after posting, I didn't know how many might have seen it. So, I'll add it here, as well: the Gray Realm's eye colors are supposed to be just like our natural colors, so there's a variety. They can be green, brown, blue, etc, whereas the Black is red and the White is gold. The person's irises are only vacant or uncolored when they are "sent / banished" to another realm. Once he or she arrives at the respective realm, then they take on the eye color of that realm. **

**For anyone interested, I wrote this chapter to two extraordinarily beautiful songs. In my opinion, they really intensify the emotion and set the atmosphere for this part of the story. I highly recommend listening to both as you read. The songs are: "Queen Gorgo" from the _300: Rise of an Empire _soundtrack and "Message For The Queen" from the _300 _soundtrack. Beautiful pieces that inspire loads of emotions.**

**Hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

**Chapter XX - A Great Injustice**

The next morning, Emma woke with an unusual feeling. Her body felt refreshingly sore (a welcomed change) and it buzzed with delightful energy. She stretched fully against the bed, and her muscles voiced their approval through a soft grunt. She let out a sigh of relief as she sank down into the soft bedding and relished in the warmth that encompassed her right side. Grinning ear-to-ear in absolute elation, she glanced to her side and appreciated the pure and unguarded sight bestowed upon her. Here, Regina appeared the most relaxed and at peace. Her features were smooth, unlike many mornings where Emma had woken to Regina's tense and fitful body and her face pinched in terror, fear, or pain. But not here. Not now, when she seemed most childlike—a wonderful innocent sweeping over her weary and careworn body. She had witnessed so many horrors, Emma was just thankful she had this peaceful rest.

Careful to not disturb Regina, she eased out of bed, and slipped on her underwear and pulled on her shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. She walked over to the window and ran her fingers over the drapes that had remained unclosed throughout the night. As she peered out, she realized the streets below were unnervingly calm. Emma looked up to the still dark sky and saw the ominous vortex still spinning above, but it was calm, proving no threat at the moment.

She turned from her spot and her eyes settled on the woman still wrapped within the blankets. The scene was oddly reminiscent of Emma's last time at her home, except this time was entirely different. She mentally scolded herself for thinking such thoughts, but for her, they only solidified her feelings. With Kate, there had never been any emotion. It was simply a means to an end. But with Regina … Gods! Her heart swelled with joy and happiness. This time it was completely different.

Regina's dark hair was tangled and fanned out on her pillow, and she was sleeping peacefully. It had been some time since Emma had seen the once powerful Queen sleep so soundly and without plight. She walked back over to the bed, and sat down at the edge within an arm's distance from Regina. She reached out and stroked a few strands of hair from Regina's face, and tucked them behind her ear. At the movement, a set of beautiful hazel eyes opened to greet her.

Her breath hitched when they met hers. That was going to take some getting used to.

"Hey," Emma whispered, grinning happily as her fingers combed through dark locks.

"Morning," Regina said, her voice gravelly with sleep. "What's the hour?"

"Early," she answered as she climbed back in bed and lay next to Regina under the covers. She opened her arms and Regina moved to settle against her, her head resting on Emma's chest. "How were you resting?"

Regina hummed in contentment and responded, her voice low with a hint of amusement, "Well, darling, from what little sleep I did get," she began, looking at Emma with a soft smile as her fingers traced the length of her collarbone, "it was the best I remember."

She peppered Emma's chest, neck, and shoulders with lazy kisses; too tired to move, yet unable to stop her motions. They both giggled softly; their chests jerking with the fast movement, as they reveled in their shared happiness.

"Why were you up?" Regina whispered; her breath and lips caressing skin. "Was something troubling you?" she asked, concerned.

Emma smiled and shook her head as she brought Regina's lips up to hers and kissed her. "I just wanted to check. Make sure everything wasn't fallin' to pieces outside all the while we're in here."

"Perhaps we should leave," Regina suggested as she fingered the thin material of Emma's open shirt. "End it all sooner rather than later."

"No," Emma said surely. "It can wait a little longer. It's waited this long, it can withstand another hour or two."

Regina stilled the movement of her fingers, lifted her head to look directly at Emma, and then smirked mischievously.

The warmth, which had been at her side, shifted and soon the full length of Regina's heated body covered every inch of Emma's exposed flesh. The open flaps of her shirt where pushed aside, as she settled against the younger woman.

Emma released a gasp that evolved into a contented sigh as short, blunt nails raked across her scalp and through her hair. The action sent a shiver down her body.

"May I try something?" Emma asked through a whisper as she gazed dreamily into molten brown eyes. "I mean—I've done it before, just not like this, and … I'd like to try."

Regina did not voice a reply but rather nodded and reclaimed Emma's lips.

Emma's hands slipped behind Regina's neck and rested at the base of her skull, her thumbs stroked the sensitive skin behind her ear.

Familiar warmth encompassed Regina within an instant. The sensation sent a shot through her body as it curled around her limbs, from her head to the tips of her toes, eliciting a sharp, yet pleasant tremor.

There were no words, no language, and no other sensation to compare or explain how full Regina felt in that moment. She gasped into Emma's mouth as she was overcome with yet more feeling. A part of her, no matter how juvenile the thought, felt as if a part of Emma had somehow passed through an illusory boundary and now resided deep within her.

Moments slipped by as Regina's name was tenderly whispered through parted lips while Emma's hands moved fervently across Regina's back, never once leaving her. The fire that had slowly been building within Regina's stomach ignited sending an indescribable intensity throughout her entire body. Emma was right there with her as their bodies finally succumbed to the intense pressure.

Time seemed limitless as they shared this unique experience, but it felt too soon as Regina became overwhelmed and regretfully broke their kiss, still, however, remaining not but a hair's breadth from the other . Their cheeks were warm and wet—a mixture of tears both had shed at some point during the intense connection.

Regina lifted trembling hands to Emma's face and dried what moisture she found there. Her eyes swam in unshed tears as she looked down at the one woman who had dared to love her; the one person who had defied the odds of the worlds to save her. The only person to ever make her believe she was worthy and capable of receiving and giving love. Regina's body thrummed and her heart swelled from euphoric joy at just how complete she felt. It left her breathless, and instead of wasting precious time with inadequate words, she simply smiled and lowered her lips to Emma's and kissed her with all that she had left.

Regina never fathomed it would come to this. She never thought that all those years ago, when they both sat beneath a decaying tree as children, that this would be her future. She _never_ expected to be loved like this, yet here she was with Emma, who not only loved her with every fiber of her being, but also made her feel safe and _loved_. For Regina, it would likely be short lived, but all they had for the moment was right then. One breath at a time, no guarantee of another, and Regina wished to take nothing for granted.

Regina settled onto her more fully, shrouding Emma's body with her own in a tangled mess of arms and legs as Emma kissed her unhurriedly. "Regina … just—please don't leave me," Emma spoke breathlessly as she fought to regain her breathing.

Regina's heart shattered at her plea, and in that moment, the false reality they had built and took refuge in for the last several hours, crumbled hopelessly around them. Because no matter how beautiful, joyful, or splendid this intimately perfect moment was, it would not last, and that about broke Regina completely.

Her mind raced with all the ways she could respond to such an agonizing plea. How could she ever leave this exceptional woman behind? She wouldn't, Regina thought to herself. She would never leave her. A part of her would always remain within the younger woman, but that's a notion she was certain Emma would never believe or tolerate. To Emma, she was sure she would just be yet another person who left her—who was ripped away from her. So, instead of responding, she just kissed her, and hoped the simple gesture would be enough.

* * *

Regretfully, as the sun crested the horizon, casting the city in a gorgeous golden glow, Regina and Emma disengaged from each other as reality showed its vile face. With lingering touches they bathed, ate, and soon found themselves walking the moderate distance to the capital building. Arm in arm, they walked through the ever growing crowded streets. Emma talked animatedly about some of the shops or merchants, even going into detail about some of the history established within the unique city.

Regina listened intently at information that should have been archived for another day; for a future, but her thoughts or gaze never ventured too far from the ominous cloud stationed above them. As the capital building came more into view, Regina clutched her harder and brought them even closer together. The weight of the orb in her side satchel was a constant reminder of what was about to transpire.

When they entered the building, Regina stopped and squeezed Emma's hand. "I'll meet you there shortly. I must take counsel with Darcy first."

Emma looked at her confusingly. "Darcy? He's here? Are the others here as well? Have you seen them?"

"I spoke only with Darcy last evening. As far as the others, I'd imagine they are here as well, yes, but I have not seen them."

Emma stepped back, hurt seeping onto her face. "Last night—why didn't you say anything?" she asked quietly.

"It wasn't an urgent matter. I thought nothing of it, I suppose," Regina told her, shrugging her shoulders to make her point more convincing. She didn't need Emma asking too many questions. Not this close. "Why don't you go see if you can find the others? I'll meet you in the sanctum shortly."

Emma ascended up to the Spheric Sanctum alone and with a certain fidget to her step. She was already brimming with nervous energy and Regina's departure and secret meeting did nothing to quell her fears or anxiety. Not to mention the unknown whereabouts of her close friends. Something about all this made her uneasy, made her stomach knot and twist in an unpleasant fashion, but not one person had given her any reason to justify her fears. Something was amiss.

She entered the sanctum, and saw the one person she dreaded to see—the elder council member who greeted them that first day back. Gregore, she recalled, remembering his name. A few other council members and advisers were standing around, but she approached him anyway, effectively tearing his attention away from his acquaintances.

"Ah, Miss Swan—"

"Regina said some of the people have returned from The Black?" she asked, not giving him the chance to finish. He nodded and she continued, "Kael, Ryker, Anders? You seen 'em?"

He frowned in contemplation as his eyes drifted about the room. "'Fraid not, it's been, well let's say … unreliable," he told her, gesturing to the portal with his hands, "the transport is safe, don't get me wrong, but as you experienced yesterday, the time gaps are quite large, and they vary. It's just inconsistent with the time of departure and the time of arrival. Sporadic at best … at least on our end, but never fear that should all end once the final orb is placed," he finished with confidence.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and hummed deep in her throat, almost to be mistaken for a hefty growl. "Well, if they're not here yet then when will we open this final portal."

"We will commence the process momentarily. All the vital members are where they need to be, and the others will arrive after, once it has stabilized completely. As a matter of fact, we are just waiting on the fallen Queen, to be exact."

"She'll be here, just had something she needed to see to."

"Course, course," he dismissed rather quickly and started to turn to his former guests.

"Just a quick question, sir? What's going to happen to her once this ends—Regina, I mean?"

He pursed his lips and studied her carefully. "Oh, well … I suppose her fate lies in the outcome of today. Good or bad. Regardless, she'll be tried yet again for her actions, and if the Council and the Gods of Thrice see it fit, she'll be forgiven for her past transgressions, and left to live freely," he spoke, but he approached her, settling his hands on her shoulders and leaning in to her; a steeliness in his eyes. He whispered, "however, and this is something you must understand, Miss Swan. Your friend, regardless of her intentions—past or present, or what good she's done to atone for her past crimes, she committed horrid acts against her own people. Sometimes, there are things that can never be forgiven or undone completely. There are people out there who never wanted her to see the light of day again, and they were livid upon her released. The Council will take all that into consideration, as well. The last thing the realms need is an uproar in regards to the dethroned Queen."

Emma leaned back, giving herself relief from his words and musty breath. This is what she feared most. Regina had been granted freedom in turn for her aid, yet there had always been the likely chance for them to renege on their agreement. It made Emma's blood boil. "I will allow nothing less than freedom for her, not after what she's done for us," she said as she tensed under his hands. She felt him flinch and knew he had experienced her anger and resolve. The twitch in his eyes told her he'd felt her warning pressure.

As the pressure built within his head, he released her sharply, the relief immediate. "Mind your place, Miss Swan. There are some things out of your control. You'd best remember that."

She smiled coldly. "Yes, well, I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Regina found Darcy at an upper level terrace, pacing the length of it. He caught her eyes and bowed. "Your Majesty."

A sad smile graced her face as she walked to him and placed her hand on his cheek, the heavy, yet trimmed stubble rough against her smooth palm and fingers. Despite his age, he now looked years younger, all in thanks to a good grooming, wash, and quality garments. She couldn't place when she had ever seen him so prim, she probably never had. He stood tall and proud in his freshly tailored breeches and shirt and his eyes shone with striking levels of respect and devotion to his beloved Queen.

"My dear friend," she began; her voice thick and heavy with emotion, "thank you for all your years of unwavering allegiance to me. You will never know or understand the full extent of my gratitude."

"It's my honor, Majesty."

She took a deep breath, allaying her fear and quieting her resolve. She then spoke, "Upon my death, you are relieved of your oath. I have no heirs or any kingdom to return to, thus I am granting you your freedom. All I ask is for you to watch over her, Darcy. From afar, by ear, or word-of-mouth, it matters naught. I just want her safe."

With a solemn nod, he said, "You have my word, My Lady."

"Thank you," she spoke in earnest. "Now, listen to me, and listen oh so very closely. I do not know what risks opening this final portal may present. But it's very likely the second I open that portal, it's going to sweep in anyone and everything who gets too close to the pull. But even if that doesn't happen, the portal will remain active for a few seconds after my departure … enough time to allow someone to come in after me. So, just to make something perfectly clear … _I_ will be the _only_ one it takes. Do you understand me? You _will_ keep Emma back. I don't care if you have to get the whole _gods damned_ guard to restrain her, do what you have to do, and keep Emma away. I helped open this monstrosity, so I will be the one to close it, for good."

"This will break her, you know. Are you sure this is what you want? Self-sacrifice only to leave the one and only person you've ever loved behind to suffer? Is that what you really want?"

"Of course not! But I have made many mistakes. I have taken people's lives, made them suffer great horrors. I was sentenced to spend the duration of my life in prison, shackled to a damp wall, and only on my death would I be transported to Ryu, Keeper of the Void, where I would spend eternity alone and forgotten. I must pay for my actions. Emma is too pure to be tainted with my existence … with my love. She is too good, and I refuse to let her die because I was too weak to prevent it. She'll understand one day. When I am long gone."

He gave her a disapproving glance as he placed his heavy hands on her slim, yet defined shoulders. "You know, Majesty, I have served your family my entire life. I was born within the palace walls, the bastard son of a maid. I served your mother, and I've served you. And I must tell you, that out of every one of your predecessors and even your successor, you disappoint me … _the least_. Your mother would have spat upon the ground you walk. Your father might have been more forgiving—more accepting. But you were different, Majesty. I always knew that, and I expected so much from you. I'm just sorry it's come down to this, my Queen," he said solemnly. He stepped back and bowed before saying, "Emma will not pass. Only you, Your Majesty. You have my word, for what it's worth."

With a tearful and appreciative smile, she thanked him.

"Your Majesty? Is there anything you would like me to tell her? After it's all over? A message, perhaps?"

"Tell her I love her, and that she truly did save me, whether she believed it or not. And this," she said as she untied the thin black cord of the handmade necklace around her neck and handed it to Darcy. "Please tell her I'm sorry."

He looked at the old necklace laced between his calloused fingers with a sense of remembrance and gently placed it in his vest pocket.

"This is farewell, Darcy."

She looked into his crimson eyes and saw fear and regret for the first time. Two emotions he never allowed anyone to witness.

He took both her hands within his own and knelt on one knee; a final show of veneration and loyalty; the parting stance of a royal guardsmen to their monarch. "Aye, my Queen."

He released her hands and took the formal stance: one arm secured behind him and the other braced as if he was holding a shield in front of him. His head bowed.

She turned to leave and had just breached the threshold, when he called out to her once more, "And My Lady? My oath does not end with your passing, Majesty. I will forever serve in your name until I draw my last breath. You will forever have your champion to avenge and honor you, even in the afterlife."

* * *

Within minutes, Regina entered the sanctum and found Emma, along with numerous other faces already gathered around, waiting for this end-all. Little did they know they were about to witness her death. In a way, it was her execution; atoning for her past crimes in the ultimate way, meeting a fair and justifiable end. This was her punishment. The Realms of Thrice would get what they wanted: her dead.

Emma caught sight of her almost instantly and was by her side.

"Hey," Emma greeted quietly as she entered the large room. "Y'nervous?" she asked once seeing the distress etched across her face.

"I'm fine, darling," Regina told her, trying to pacify what fears might surface between now and the final seconds. Emma had to remain strong, even if the woes that awaited Regina remained unbeknownst to her. Emma's serenity would keep her calm and focused. With these remaining minutes, Regina only wished for them to pass with ease and little grief—two factors that had eluded her for much of her life.

She wanted to be angry, and a part of her was. Angry for the lost of time, but for her, forever wouldn't have even been long enough. They had so many years to make up for; so many lost embraces, touches, whispered endearments, and lost companionship. For Regina, it was years of surviving a life where she was only told of how worthless she was. Only time could heal those wounds. Well, and a young demigod named Emma Swan.

A soft, warm presence at her cheek drew her attention back to reality. "We're just opening this final portal, right?" Emma asked. "I mean, we've done this two other times, should be quick and easy."

As Emma went to turn, Regina's hand grabbed her wrist and spun her around with great force. Before Emma could comprehend the movement, a pair of lips met her own violently. A kiss filled with such a myriad of emotions it felt as if it would splinter the air. Love, fear, agony, and regret poured into the kiss. It was a desperate kiss that was too often shared by parting souls. A kiss attempting to close all wounds, heal all broken ties, and mend unfulfilled promises. It was a kiss of a thousand apologies and 'what ifs'. It was a kiss of a final farewell.

Regina was the first to break it sorrowfully. She closed her eyes tightly as she rested her forehead against her one true love.

She felt Emma smile against her cheek "What was that for?" she asked as she continued to place soft kisses on her cheek. "Not that I'm complaining of course—"

"I love you," Regina said as her breath hiccuped in her throat.

She truthfully did not know if she would have the strength to carry on forward. It would need to be quick, because the second she saw Emma's panicked and agonized expression, she would break the connection, and all would be lost regardless. There would only be one outcome today. Regina would die closing the portal, and her love, and all souls within The Three Realms of Thrice would be spared. Regina just hoped they would think kindly of her after all was said and done. That her sacrifice would not go unnoticed, and that her name would be spoken through stories of redemption and exoneration. But somehow she didn't believe that would be the case. Those types of stories were too often written and told to invoke pity for some, and yet none of the such for others. They were one sided, meant to idolize the pure and few and condemn the so-called 'wicked'. The heroes wore the same figurative cloak: strong, brave, and courageous, with the purest of hearts and intentions; one dimensional and faultless. The villains were of the same mold as well: but they were simply evil, no explanations needed. Within the pomp and circumstance of these renowned and beloved stories, parts were left strategically untold—omitted—because who honestly wanted to have sympathy for those tainted with darkness, even if redemption was at play? But what the stories failed to tell and what undermined them, was one simple and undisputed fact: evil was not created at conception, but rather created through the struggles and suffering of life.

However, that meant nothing because no one truthfully bewailed the death of the 'evil'. People's transgressions weren't overlooked easily. Grudges were held and forgiveness was never easily earned. She would still be deemed the fallen evil Queen of The Black Realm, daughter of the cruelest ruler of all realms, and the very one who brought the prospects of death and destruction upon the realms through the portals. In spite of her sacrifice, and the love she held in her heart for another, she would die a monster; a villain that would be feared and loathed by many. The evil that haunted children and adult's dreams. The villain who crept behind corners, hid beneath beds, and behind closed doors. That's how all the folklore and fairytales ended, so why would life be any different. It was far crueler than any tale. This was simply a means to an end.

This is how it was meant to be, though. Emma was seen as the divine prediction; the one child who would transcend all realms; ultimately uniting all into one—merging light and darkness together for the first time since creation. She was to show that wickedness was not born, but rather created through the struggles and suffering of life; that the worlds, and all who inhabited them, were neither dark nor light, but rather all variants in between. Regina believed all this to be true, because Emma saved her. She truly saved her from darkness. Perhaps their meeting that fateful day in the woods was destiny. Emma was the preordained white knight meant to save her, the fated evil Queen, and thus by doing so, Emma would rid the realms of darkness and light, and mold all into one.

Tears were flowing freely down Regina's cheeks as her lips and chin quivered with unspent emotion. She clutched desperately at Emma's form, her right hand rising up and tenderly cupping a soft cheek.

"I do love you, Emma. So very much."

"Hey," Emma whispered softly, her eyes gleaming as she crooked a slim finger under Regina's chin and brought their eyes together. "I love you, too. It's almost over."

With one last and final kiss, Regina pulled back and looked at Darcy who now stood mere feet from them. With a short nod, he stated they were all ready for the next plan of action. Regina closed her eyes hard and with one last embrace she whispered two poignant words, "I'm sorry," into Emma's ear. Those parting words reflected all the sorrow and regret Regina held. Regret for leaving her, regret for the decision that brought them to this point, regret for the pain her own wicked mother caused, and regret for the lack of time.

Emma looked at her bewilderingly for but a moment before Regina stepped away. Then strong arms gripped Emma's being like a web catching its prey. She struggled as Regina turned and walked over to Darcy who was holding the small glowing orb. Emma's heartbeat stopped, her breath halted, and her body locked in stillness as her eyes followed Regina's calculated movements.

Everyone in the room felt the slight change when the orb had been brought in the sanctum, but there was suddenly no question, as the pressure increased tenfold when the orb approached the transcendent portal, that something big was about to transpire.

Fine dust drifted to the ground as cracks began forming within the pale marble encasing the sanctum. Regina entered the alcove as dust and debris rained upon her. She bent down to place the orb on the ground, but froze mid stance. Slowly, she righted herself and gripped the orb close to her chest. Turning her head, she glanced back at Emma once more. Her lip trembled as she looked at the young woman—her most dear friend and truest love for the last time.

"No … let me go," Emma stated as calmly as her racing heart and tremulous body would allow; her voice betraying the sharp tremors within her body. When the grips did not budge, and Regina settled into the portal, Emma began to panic. "Let me go!" she screamed and began to jerk her limbs.

Regina for her part was trying her damnedest to ignore the painful screams of Emma. With trembling hands she lowered the crystal to the ground and held her breath before she turned to see those around her for the last time. Darcy bowed at the neck for her, unshed tears in his eyes. Then she looked to Emma who was frantically shaking her head and pleading with Regina.

"Regina … please … don't. Don't leave me again."

Regina's gaze never faltered from Emma's as she raised her arms to the grip bars. She saw the young woman fight against those restraining her.

"Regina! No! Please!" she begged with abandon.

"I love you. Goodbye, my love," Regina mouthed before she touched the grip bars and disappeared from the portal, the orb along with her.

"No! Gods, no!" Emma screamed as tears poured down her cheeks. Her receptors glowed red and the men restraining her released one of her arms with yelps from where the metal burned them. She reached out toward the now empty portal, and it began crumbling even more under her force. Blood trickled from her nose.

Around them people were gasping and yelling, retreating back fearful of a complete collapse. But Emma neither saw nor heard any of this as her mind was only occupied with the now vacant portal. The loss she felt within her chest and stomach … indescribable. She had watched helplessly as everything she'd hoped, prayed, and longed for slip from her fingers in an instant.

"Stop her," a gentleman yells from somewhere within the room, "before she completely destroys it!"

A flash of pain shot through her head. Then … darkness; a feeling she was becoming all too familiar with.

* * *

**As always, thanks for all the wonderful reviews and alerts! :)  
**


	25. Chapter XXI - The One They Fear

**AN: Two more chapters after this one and I also have an alternate chapter that I'll post at the end of the story if you guys would be interested in that. I feel it would just give another facet / view to this story and I think it's an important one.**

**Hope you guys enjoy!**

**All mistakes are my own.**

* * *

**Chapter XXI - The One They Fear**

The Sanctum had since calmed by the time Anders, Kael, and Ryker passed through the portal.

The injuries which ailed Ryker had made the slowest of progress, but at least he held consciousness, and that made both men more hopeful. A group of people rushed them as soon as they saw the struggling form between them.

"Get him to the infirmary!" Anders said; his voice authoritative and strained from the weight of Ryker leaned against him. Two men took his weight and started carrying him down to the infirmary.

Kael looked around, surveying the damage. His eyes finally landed on the chipped and battered alcove. His brows furrowed as he gazed on in confusion. "What's happened?" he asked, directing his line of question to Gregore who was quickly approaching them with a look of relief.

"Ah! Kael, Anders, it's a relief to see you both! I trust the portals are workin—"

"Shut up you fool!" Anders interrupted with an angry sneer, the timbre in his voice on the urge of panic. "Where are Emma and the Queen?" Gregore, who had been looking at him in shock from the outburst, quickly averted his eyes elsewhere, to a more neutral target—one not so aggressive. But patience had since left Anders's two moons ago. And he was not in the mood for petty games. "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"M—Miss Swan is down in the infirmary and the Evil Queen … well she …" he stumbled around with his words as he began pointing aimlessly around the room.

"SPEAK!"

"She's gone," he finally stated. "She went into the portal with the orb. She's dead."

Both Anders and Kael flinched and then looked to the other. They were too late. "Emma?" Kael inquired, fully knowing the young woman would be grief stricken and in need of consoling.

"Inconsolable, sir. She had to be physically restrained … and you can see the damage she wreaked on the portal. Thank the Gods we stopped her—"

"What'd you do to her?!" Anders asked; his voice low and full of warning as he stepped forward and confronted Gregore. Like Emma, he had never cared for the man either. Great minds thought alike.

"We had to stop her," he said slowly, refusing to say anymore. And that was their answer.

Anders's blood ran cold, heart stopping at the fierce shiver that slammed into his body.

"For your sake, you'd better hope she's alive and well, 'cause if not, you've just doomed us, _my friend_," and he stormed off for the infirmary, leaving Kael and Gregore to discuss the urgent matter at hand.

* * *

The earth beneath her tilted on its axis as her head fought against the dizziness that plagued her. Brightness greeted her in place of the darkness she had expected. The ground under her fingers felt warm, soft, and grainy. She clawed at it and realized it was grass and dirt, both warmed from the sun. She lifted her head, feeling bits of matter fall from her cheek and hair. A few feet from her rested the purifier orb, still intact.

Regina sighed; her eyes still trained on the orb, and allowed her head to rest back on the ground. All appeared quiet, and while that should have seemed alarming, Regina just wished to rest and deal with whatever awaited her later.

But as she closed her eyes, the methodic sounds of light footfalls flowed into her ears. Her breathing halted as she waited for a recognizable—and friendly—sound. Any sound that would quell her now racing heart.

To her dismay, the sound that came caused numbness to envelope her body and the hairs at the back of her neck to stand.

"Well, well," the painfully familiar voice taunted.

Regina's eyes slammed shut then reopened, desperate to hope it was a dream—a nightmare. But as she heard the soft ruffle of clothing and those same footfalls round her, she knew a nightmare was the least of her concerns, because now in front of her, stood her mother in all her imperial glory.

The woman's lips twisted into a snarlish smirk as she approached her fallen daughter. "My dearest Regina. It's so lovely to see you, and after all this time," she said with a fake smile and animated elatedness.

"Mother? No … no, it cannot be," she whimpered as she tried to make sense of what—who, a seemly real who, stood not but feet from her. Years of unspoken nightmares were manifesting right in front of her eyes, and it appeared all too real.

"Oh, don't fret, sweetness," Cora cooed in response to her daughter's weak and fearful tone. A vicious glint in her eyes as she also took in Regina's wide eyes and paled complexion. This was how she lived—thrived, on the fear and terror of others. "You are still very much alive. As I am I, you see."

Cora's gazed shifted to a spot behind her and she smirked.

Senses heightened, Regina turned her head, and saw Lord Tyron, a couple unknown guards and her father, of all people. Her heart broke at the sight of him. Had he been in on this the entire time? Playing her just as her mother had? It pained her to think such thoughts, but her question was answered not but a second later as Henry and a guard walked to her and lifted her to her feet. She viciously fought at them, her short nails catching enough skin to tear and mangle, but with a slap, a quick yank of her long hair, and a few muttered obscenities, the struggle stopped; Regina restrained between them, tears falling down her face. She appeared weak, and she knew it, but while they were tears of betrayal and sorrow, they were also tears of anger—fury.

Cora voiced her disapproval by clicking her tongue and shaking her head. _What an insolent brat_, she thought to herself. "Why the long face, my child? Are you not happy to see me? Your mother, whom you thought dead?" After no response and cold eyes staring back at her, Cora laughed. "No matter, you are in for a treat this day … and I must say all this would not be possible without your help, dearest. But you still have more to give yet."

The tyrant closed the distance to her daughter and grabbed her face harshly with her hand, her boney fingers crushing the young woman's jaw. Cora's lips curled in a twisted sneer as she watched Regina struggle.

"You've brought the demigod this close," Cora muttered, her face close to her daughter's—establishing a challenge, "now all I need is her standing before me."

Regina, finally retreating from her stupor and gathering her courage, spoke fiercely through her pinched mouth, "You will not touch her. I will not help you."

Cora didn't seem the least fazed with her declaration. Instead, she seemed to have expected it. With a menacing glare, her fingers tightened their grasp, blood releasing at the tips of her nails.

Regina closed her eyes as she readied herself; prepared to have rage wreaked upon her. She tensed at the next words.

"That is where you are wrong, my child," Cora seethed, the corner of her lip curling in contempt. "You will be the one to bring her to me. Need I remind you of our last agreement? That of which you failed to honor?" Regina's defiance faltered. "Yes … you thought I was stupid … played me for a fool, but I was simply holding off. Reserving my claim for another time—another opportunity. And that has arrived this day."

With a swift flick, Cora released her, and as her mother turned her back, Regina screamed, "Why her?! Why _me_?! Why?!"

Regina felt Henry tense against her, his hands shaking, clutching her arm. Her desperate pleas obviously having affected him.

"Oh come, Regina, don't be so naïve! I know you know of her purpose—her destiny. It was written by the Gods, after all. She is the divine peacekeeper, or so it is spoken."

She paused as she fiddled with something on her belt.

"She's a threat to my cause; a threat to my power. I desire absolute control over the realms. The dark has forever been discounted—spat upon, but the dark realm will never been in the shadows again. I will annihilate the other realms and crush the boundaries that separate us, including those foolish enough to believe they are safe outside of the realms—those who took refuge in the outlands. The White and Gray will merge with the Black and we will all live equally—together under my supreme rule. And your _savior—_the demigod, is destined to thwart my grand plans."

"You see, she is a symbol. She's symbolic of hope and peace. Uniting the realms and ending our long standing feud. She is the hope that people prayed for—desired, but never knew. Now I will bring a pretty face to the faceless written prediction. The people of Thrice will see their demigod—their savior for the first time. They will see everything they'd ever hoped for standing right in front of them. Within a finger's grasp distance. Then, once that hope swells within their bellies, I will crush her right in front of their pathetic faces. Everything they hoped—aspired for will be turned to ash right in front of them. And that, my child, is where you come into play."

"No … you would have to kill me first."

"All in good time, my child. As I said, I still have use for you—whether willing or unwilling, you will do as I command. Then, well, I just might do as you so wish."

Cora walked to Henry, and whispered something in his ear.

Regina fell to her knees in front of him.

"Father, please … please," she said, eyes shimmering and hands grasping—begging through her actions. Begging for what, she couldn't place, but she hoped her father, despite him being somewhat of a stranger, could interpret her plea. From his side pocket, he brought out a single restraint—a solid bar—and bound her hands together; the bar securely linking her receptors together. Only then did he make eye contact with her. It was short—ending almost as soon as it had begun. But in that moment, she swore she saw a flicker of _something_. As his golden eyes bore heavily into new brown, and as her frantic hands found his own, he jerked them away and turned from her, his face as blank as she had ever seen it. Perhaps, she had just imagined it. Her options were fading right in front of her—her hope along with it. She heard a light thud beside her as Henry tossed something near her, but she didn't look to it. Lord Tryon followed Henry, as well as, the guards, leaving just the two of them—mother and daughter.

Silence stretched on between them. Cora's eyes never leaving those of her daughter's, even though the gaze was not often returned. Amusement twinkled in her eyes as she watched the pathetic emotions wash over her daughter who was on her knees like a common underling; a disgraced dethroned monarch kneeling—yielding to her superior.

Regina recognized the look all too well. Awash in shame, she attempted to fight back, with whatever she had left. Optimism had never been her strong point, and her mother knew that, but she was determined to play it up. Confidence, despite how false it is, could be a powerful thing.

"Your plan has failed, _Mother_," she whispered boldly, "for no matter what you do to me, you will not succeed."

"Oh? And what makes you think I will not? Enlighten me, dear, please."

"Since birth you conditioned me to be as ruthless and vicious as yourself. You broke me. Then built me back to your liking. And you succeeded for a time. But Emma saved me, and this day what darkness remained within me, faded completely. I have reclaimed my soul, and will do whatever it takes to save the realms from your wrath—_forever_."

"Now that answer troubles me. Do you honestly think this one act of chivalry and self-sacrifice will change other's opinions of you? Wipe the darkness from your soul, as you say?" she asked patronizingly, and Regina faltered in spite of her efforts. But Cora caught her hesitation. "Ah, that's doubt I see. That's a question and scenario I see you've played around within your mind many times over. Well, no more! I'll answer it for you, my dearest. Brutally honest, yet simple: IT WON'T, you _foolish_ girl! They see you, and will continue to see you as one thing and one thing only—EVIL. No amount of good deeds will triumph what you are, my dear."

"And what I am, Mother?" she asked, rage boiling within her eyes. "Through your eyes I've been nothing more than a disappointment. A burden you only tolerated because I had the promise at birth of being your heir. I had the promise of being a ruthless ruler, just like you. I may have been your daughter by blood, but I know you would have slain me the moment a better and more appealing option came to your womb. I was nothing more than a marionette that you so elatedly toyed with."

Cora scowled at her in abhorrence, her lips curled, and face taut with pent up aggression. In the span of a candle flicker, a sharp blow struck the side of Regina's face, knocking her to the ground, cheek blazing red and vision blurry. She could already feel the tightness at the side of her face.

"You certainly have developed a sharp tongue, not to mention your lack of respect and manners. But you are _so_ _wrong_!" Cora bellowed as she towered over her daughter. "I only tolerated you, not because you were my blood and heir, but because of this very day! I knew you would be important. And I was _right_. My coming to power would not have been this easy should I have slain your lover that day. I knew you were important to her the moment I saw the two of you together. You were her weakness—her downfall. You and you alone would ultimately bring her down."

Regina shook her head, still disoriented, but firm as she murmured, "You do not speak of Emma."

Cora, disappointed with her daughter's lack of fight, clicked her tongue sorrowfully as she mocked her. "Oh my," she cooed, "my dearest child. What did I tell you of love? You could have saved yourself so much pain had you listened to me. Love is not what rules kingdoms. Love isn't what saves people from death—it certainly won't save you. In fact, it was what truly condemned you to this fate. It's only an emotion that will break you … and unfortunately for you, it has already claimed you."

Rolling the metallic liquid off her tongue, Regina spat out red and breathed a couple of times before she responded as confidently as her weak voice would allow."You are wrong yet again. To have the love of another gives you strength, but to give love to another, to let yourself love, and love honestly, it takes courage, and I have both. That's what separates us, Mother. _Love_."

"In that, you are correct, my dear, and that's why killing you will be easy."

She turned away and yelled a single command to her sycophants. "RELEASE THEM!"

And mayhem would soon rain down upon the realms.

* * *

He stopped mid-stride as he looked at the pitiful form in front of him. He almost didn't even recognize her. The months of travel had not been kind to her, that much was for sure as he looked at her fresh wounds and old wrappings.

"Gods," he let out in a quick whisper as he surveyed Emma's state from close up. Her ashen skin blended into the pale stone behind her, and her sunken eyes and patches of red, blue, purple, and black tinted skin clashed violently against the light wall. In her state, she looked like the dead—unmoving and unseeing, her once beautiful green eyes now vacant.

Dried and caked blood settled beneath her nose, at the corner of her mouth, and at her wrists. Her cheeks were stained with dried tears along with a growing and nasty looking bruise from where the guard had struck her.

He knelt beside her and clutched his fist to his mouth.

"She's gone, Anders." It came out as a whisper, soft and raspy.

Anders, unsure of what to do given the twisted circumstances they found themselves in, leaned in to her and clutched her shoulder with his hand, squeezing in reassurance. Emma's swollen and blood-shot eyes shifted from the wall to his. A moment was all they needed to communicate everything they needed. The burly man had never been the one for poetic words or gestures, instead preferring the simplicity of an encouraging smile or hefty pat on the back. And for the all the years he knew Emma, he understood she didn't need words of reassurance this time, because none existed to fill this incredibly raw moment. Nothing in the worlds here or above and beyond could heal the insurmountable pain. But with a gentle, grounding touch, it was just enough to let Emma know she wasn't alone.

She attempted a teary yet appreciative smile and turned her gaze back to the wall as fresh tears trailed down her cheek.

"We need to go," he said after a few minutes of silence, but Emma didn't even acknowledge his words. He was just about to say them again when screams and loud crashes sounded from the levels above. Then his patience vanished like water in the air, quickly replaced with fear and determination.

"Come on, we have to go," he said as he went to lift her.

She flinched away from him, her face pinching in pain from the action. "Just go, someone will be down shortly … they'll treat me then if they see fit."

Every nerve in Anders's body zinged with caution. They had to move and move quickly if they, or anyone else, were to survive this. Agitated, he said, "Damn it, Swan! Cora is alive—she's here in the Realms. Maybe here as we speak."

That seemed to have jolted Emma from her stupor. Her gaze cleared and body tensed as she watched him carefully.

"What—"

"She's alive and I have to get you out of here!" He paused and allowed the room to go still. Loud noises could still be heard above them. "D'ya here that?!" he asked with a frenzied look in his eyes, his hands sifting nervously through his long tied back hair. "She's unleashed hundreds of men into our Realm … the White as well. We have to regroup and stop her at all costs, before she destroys _everything_!"

"And what do you expect me to do?" she asked, tiredness seeping from her words. "What even _can_ I do now?" She motioned to her body, wrought with debilitating injuries.

"Well, first things first, we need to get you healed up, get these wounds treated. Then, well … the plan kinda falls apart there."

Unwilling to wait for her response, he ran to the supply closet located several halls down. His heavy boots clambered with each hurried step and his various adornments secured to his belt rattled noisily as he ran; a firm hand latched onto the handle of his dagger. He encountered no resistance and took note of the very apparent lack of persons within the infirmary. Hopefully, they all were taking shelter in hiding. With constant glances over his shoulders and looks to the numerous entryways, he wrenched open the iron-barred door; hastily shifting through the supplies and grabbing handfuls of linen, various ointments, salves, pill jars, and vials of tonic. Something in there would surely help her. Piling the materials on a thin squared linen sheet, he pulled the corners together, making a makeshift sack, and he ran back to Emma's room.

As he cleaned and treated her wounds with unrelenting speed, at times making Emma bite back gasps and loud yelps with his less than gentle touch, she decided to ask her questions. Hopeful for a reprieve in her current suffering.

"Cora … how?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Gaze trained on the horrendous wound on her wrist, he went on to tell her everything Kael and he had discovered: from her faked death, to her knowledge of Emma's demi-status, and Henry's role in the ploy. And, with reluctance, he even told her of Ryker, after many reassurances that he would recover without issue. He worried his fingers as she seemed to soak it all in like bread to pottage, her expression indeterminate to the turmoil roiling inside her.

Her face remained neutral with only the spark of rage igniting within her eyes. But Anders felt everything she kept from the surface. He felt it crawling beneath his skin, mounting within his skull, and instigating the fine hairs on his neck and arms to stand erect. One thing was certain; he was playing with fire and needed to choose his words carefully if he wanted any positive action to come from this. Fortunate for him, or unfortunate, depending on how it all transpired, he knew how to work her—to make her leap into action. From their years together, and through their hardships as mentor and student, he understood her strengths and weaknesses, and he knew how goad her into action. Was it an infringement in their trust? Yes. Was it wrong? Yes. But in saving lives of the innocent, including their own, was it necessary? He believed so.

"What about the portal?" she asked quietly.

Anders's hand stills as he directs his gaze to meet hers briefly. "Gone, I believe," he spoke and resumed work. They were taking too long. He was surprised they hadn't been found yet. But they were tucked away in a far corner, room dark and out of the way. Perhaps that was their advantage. "A great threat still remains, though."

"And Regina?" Her voice broke at the utterance of her name. "She didn't die for nothing then?"

"No, but she will, Emma, unless we stop all this. Stop her."

He picked up a clear, green tinted glass jar and dumped out a few roughly rounded white powdered pills in his palm. "No, not those," Emma said, shaking her head and hand. "They'll make me sleep."

He nodded and went for the next item: Grimish Seed Oil. Not to be confused with Grimish Seed Bread, but it held many of the same healing properties, just not as potent or effective. In a pinch, it would work quite well, at least for what they needed it for.

Time pressed on regardless of Anders's urgent movements. He wagered they'd only spent less than a half hour's time from the moment of his arrival to the point they were at then.

He could tell in her movements and overall disposition that her heart simply was not with her anymore. She seemed to feel better, at least physically. But she was so _tired_. Her will gone—nonexistent.

But Anders refused to give up, instead encouraging her like he had done countless times. Now was not the time for weakness, and he'd settle for no less than all she had to give.

"Come on!" he said, trying to help her to her feet. She resisted. "We have to fight back!"

"I'm _so_ tired of fighting, Anders. I don't have anything left in me."

"People are dying! And more will, unless you step up and do something! You couldn't fight this alone, but you have everyone at your side, just waiting to help … waiting for you to fight alongside them."

"I'm not a soldier. I couldn't even hold a blade if I wanted to in my state."

"No, but you're a demigod, Emma. And with that comes power—influence. Whether you want it or not. People will follow you just for who you are—what you represent."

But she said nothing, instead choosing to ignore him.

And so it would begin; his dangerous game with fire.

"She will die in vain if we don't act!" he pressed, face red and angry. "Is that what you want?!"

"How can you ask me that?"

"Because you've given up!"

"No!" she bellowed as she rose to her feet, bringing herself level with him. "I just watched a woman—a woman I loved more than any person on these Gods damned worlds, die. And no one will ever care. No one will mourn for her, or celebrate her sacrifice, or the life she gave up to save them. She will be remembered for her past, nothing else. Her name will be muttered under the veil of disgust, because in their eyes, justice prevailed. 'The wretch got what she deserved,' that's what they'll all say."

She turned to sit back down, but his next words were carefully and meticulously arranged, spoken to evoke emotion. In his experience, actions often followed strong emotion.

"You know what you are—and I never thought I'd say this … but you're a coward, Emma Swan."

She stopped and turned her head slowly to look at him. His words slapping her square in the face. They were deliberate and cut straight through the bone. "I am no—"

"You're a fucking _coward!"_ he yelled back. Maybe it had been too much, but it certainly invoked the reaction he desired. The pressure in the room doubled. He would have to quell her anger and quick to avoid her hurting herself further.

"Take it back!" she yelled as she slammed him into the wall; her forearm pressing against his throat.

The force knocked the breath from him. "That's it! Get angry!" he said between gasps. "Cut me down right 'ere, right now! At least you'd be doing something!"

It was then she realized what he was trying to do. The point he was trying to make. "I'm not a murderer," she spoke defensively and on instinct as if it was something she constantly had to prove to herself.

"No," he conceded, his voice soft and understanding. "But she is. Regina would have survived the portal if Cora hadn't tampered with it. Avenge her. Fight for her, and when it's all over, you can tell the people of the Realms the story of her great sacrifice. You can tell her story, and make sure she's given the true justice she deserves."

Then, yelling and loud rumbling met their ears. It was now or never. Emma turned her head to the entryway; watching and listening; conceiving a plan as she did so. When she turned her head back to him and her gaze met his, a powerful shiver shot up his spine. Her beautiful emerald eyes had taken on a special darkness; almost black in their appearance. He felt the strength in her fingertips, in her hands, in her arms—in her whole body.

He whispered, "Let's give the people of Thrice something to hope for."

They both gripped the handles of their daggers as men breached the door.

* * *

"THE REALMS ARE UNDER ATTACK! TAKE COVER AND FEND FOR YOUR LIVES! People were screaming as Emma, Anders, Kael, Darcy, and a few others gathered outside the capital building.

As soon as Emma and Anders had left the infirmary, they only encountered a handful of opponents. What made the situation even direr and tragic was the fact most were scared young lads with only minimal training and clumsy coordination; easily taken down, but at each swing of Emma's small blade, she felt a part of herself giving way. She was cutting down young men who likely didn't wish for this fate. Young and older men alike who certainly had families—lives; only doing Cora's bidding out of fear. But ultimately, it was her life or theirs, and she had a purpose to see through. A purpose for the betterment of humanity.

The scene outside screamed chaos as the roar of shouts and shrieks thundered through the streets. The thick air, toxic from the numerous fires started within the city, hung low and filled their lungs, mouths, and eyes with burning soot. Emma coughed a violently as Anders grabbed her shoulder and yelled into her ear, his voice fighting against the intense volume around them.

"Find Henry, first," he said. "He'll lead you to her. But he'll be playing his card as Supreme Councilor, he'll be well protected."

"And you're sure about this?" she asked, still uncertain. "Threatening the life of a council member is enough grounds for banishment, but _killing_ … that surpasses banishment—that's death."

"I've told you everything I know. All the evidence is there, Emma. There is no doubt in my mind. Cora might have been the mastermind, but he was the apprentice, and he obviously did a superb job."

Emma nodded and looked around. There had to be several dozen men around them. Many moving the injured, dead, or simply huddled together, holding off what threats approached them in unison. The enemy's numbers appeared to be falling, but even one capable of harm was one too many. They had to have at least semblance of a plan. Organized chaos. They wanted her to lead, so by the Gods, she would lead.

"Listen up! All of you!" she commanded, running toward them to make sure her voice carried. They all watched her curiously, blades flinching in their grasps. "We need your help."

"We are not soldiers!" a few cried out. "We will all be slain."

She shook her head vehemently as she looked to Anders and Kael. "We're not asking you to be soldiers," Emma said, trying to quell their fears and inhibitions. "But we do need your help—_our_ _people_ need your help. Get word out, as fast as you can. Residents remain in their homes, doors locked and barricaded, and they need to be hidden. The harder it is for these bastards to get their hands on 'em, the more likely they are to survive this chaos. We also need some men to go down to the infirmary and clear it out. The injured need a safe place to stay and be treated. But for anyone who can hold and swing a blade or fire an arrow, you're desperately needed _here_, with us. So as you're out, recruit anyone else you can. We need all the help we can get."

Less than an hour's time had passed since the Realms were flooded with enemy forces. But much could still be done.

"Let us send these bastards back where they belong!"

* * *

Her search for Henry turned out to be less difficult than she initially considered. He must have thought highly of himself as he paraded through the capital building, surrounded by guards; his steps steady and confident, elegant robe following behind him. He played the part well. What nerve he possessed. To walk the same halls as the people he betrayed. Brazen and arrogant. But Emma immediately thought it odd, and then everything slid into place. He was from the White. No other members of White were here. Peculiar, yet it only made to solidify Anders's and Kael's points.

Then a familiar sensation ripped through her body like fire to grease. Instantly filled—overcome with rage and hatred at the knowledge of Regina's betrayal—at the treachery to the realms. She was his own flesh and blood—his own daughter, and he led her willingly to her death. _Gods damn him_, she thought.

Emma could feel herself pulling away, her morality along with it. Restraint, self-discipline; all obliterated by this darkness that never seemed to let her rest, never fully vacating her body. Like a parasite, it found its source and latched on for dear life.

Perhaps this was what Cora wanted all along. She saw Emma's weakness—the shadows that hid beneath her flesh. The goodness that resided inside her yet was so easily overcome with the darkness Cora had always called home.

To bring someone of Emma's nature down to her level would be most gratifying, Emma mused to herself. Cora knew she would avenge Regina's death. And Emma was playing right into her game. But her mind was too clouded to process such information.

Tunnel vision impeded her sight. "HENRY!" she bellowed, her voice filled with pain, agony, rage, and hatred. The air surrounding them became thick and made it difficult to breathe. The floors and walls shook, and at first no one dared to approach her.

Emma could feel everything building; not only within her, but in the atmosphere as well.

Overflowing with rage she descended upon the traitorous bastard who betrayed not only her and the realms he represented, but his own flesh and blood. The guards of White lunged at Emma, and while not even blinking an eye and never breaking sight with Henry, she charged her receptors and released a powerful slashing force. The guards were cut down, and she arrived in front of Henry with inhuman speed and soon found her hand and fingers wrapped around his throat; slamming him into the marble wall. Her hand clinched violently against his throat with unbridled strength and fury. "You betrayed your daughter! You led her to slaughter you fucking traitor. Now you will pay the price," she spat with all the rage filling her veins and pouring into her heart and soul.

"But she lives! She lives!" he stated in panic, gasping for breath at each word. "Regina! Cora has her in the sanctum! T—too valuable to kill! Please!"

Emma studied him as best as her thrumming body would tolerate. She could see the truth in his eyes, laid out there along with panic and fear. But she knew in her heart there was no truth to the statement. "You lie!"

She was lost in it. The hunger for revenge was insatiable as her whole body shook. With all the strength her enraged body could direct, she jerked him from the wall and pulled out her once blunted dagger. The weapon she was once ashamed of, now honed to deathly precision, found its short length buried within his chest—effectively piercing his heart.

And just as quickly as it all began, it all ended. The air around whooshed out of her lungs as she collapsed to her knees. Her eyes and cheeks burned from spilt tears that had tracked down her face. Her chest burned within intense heat and pressure as she cried out; suffering from a myriad of emotions finally boiling over. She closed her eyes as it took her.

As soon as her head cleared, she recalled Henry's words. Regina might not live as he said, but at least could find Cora. She sprinted, legs and body protesting with each hurried step, up to the Sanctum where she would confront Cora and end this once and for all.

When she got to the entrance, she slowed and approached with care, mindful of each step as to not alert the evil woman of her presence. But as soon as she saw her beloved alive and breathing, kneeling on the floor—moving, everything else stopped. "Regina?" she asked, her eyes still unbelieving. "Regina!" she cried, heart fluttering in her chest as relief washed over her.

When gorgeous brown eyes met hers, they immediately filled with dismay. "NO! No Emma! No! It's a trap!" she shouted back, but it was too late.

A searing pain ripped through Emma's abdomen. She leaned forward clutching right below her ribs as breath became hard to come by. The pain intensified as she saw a bloodied knife protruding from her body, the slight bump of her fingers against the handle sent her into a dizzying frenzy. She looked to her left, and saw Trysu by her side, face lit with victory. He'd stabbed her. Overwhelmed with her drastic turn of events, she missed the raw screams emitted from Regina.

"Ah! The demigod … as I live and breathe," she stated, approaching Emma with a mirthless grin. "Come, Regina, are you not going to introduce us?" Cora asked, directing the question to her helpless daughter. After no response, she continued. "Pity, as you were the one who continuously stole precious moments from me and my daughter. But no matter, 'tis in the past, and I have you exactly where I want you. After all these years of preparations …"

"I—I don't know how I've come to vex you," she said between labored breaths, "but this strife seems to be between you and me. Leave your daughter out of this. Let her be."

"No, I think not, young demigod."

Someone—a guard, Trysu, she didn't know, but they struck Emma in her still wounded and sensitive thigh and wrists. She cowered and collapsed in response. The strength suddenly wrenched from her.

"Make sure she sees this," Cora instructed.

Emma felt a set of strong hands grip her wrists, each holding something metal to her receptors—containing her energy. Then another hand painfully grasped a hand full of her hair, pulling it taut, restricting her movement and forcing her to look ahead, right at Regina. _Oh Gods_, she thought. _Gods, no_.

It was then Cora unsheathed a unique blade—small for a dagger, but oddly shaped, particularly around the hilt, where it narrowed considerably.

Regina watched with quickening breaths as her mother drew near. Dread roiled in her stomach causing bile to rise in her throat. She truly feared now. She and Emma had escaped death for too long, and she knew in the pit of her stomach, that time had now come for them. There was no evading it now. Her worst fears were being realized. Not fear for herself, but fear for the one she loved most. One of them would witness the other's demise, and she knew it would be Emma.

Cora knelt in front of her daughter, her free hand combing back damp hair from her face. She leaned in to place a soft, deceptive kiss against her clammy brow, when Regina tore her head from her. Cora snarled and wrenched her face back to hers, fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh of her cheeks. "Compliments from your heathen friends of the hollows," she said bitterly into her ear. Then, without blinking an eye, she forced the blade into Regina's abdomen—once … twice … thrice, until she slipped it between Regina's ribs and twisted it mercilessly, breaking the specially forged blade off into her. The pain was instant, but the fierce fire that spread through her veins overcame her first. Poison infiltrated her system.

Separate screams echoed off the marble walls, and it was music to Cora's ears. She threw the useless handle, and it clanked to the floor before skidding to a stop against the far wall. "Leave us," she demanded and Trysu as well as the other guards left, leaving her alone with the two women.

"Yes. You see, unlike you, I learned control," she whispered in her ear, a sickening sweetness to her voice. But Emma's jumbled thoughts came to a grueling halt as cruel fingers circled the handle of the dagger still buried in her and twisted with all the rage and force her body, arm, and wrist could manage. She cried out in agony as the twisted blade was then yanked from its warm fleshy holding. The young demigod fell to her back; liquid heat pooled and rolled from the wound.

"I underestimated you," Cora taunted as she circled Emma like prey. "Pity. I'd hoped you would have had more fight in you. I wanted you at your strongest. Instead look what received me, a damaged demigod not even worth her weight in all the riches of the worlds. You know, I had the displeasure of reading all the wretched stories and tales you so carelessly filled my daughter's head with. Even at her young and impressionable age, you made her believe she was worthy of something. That despite all the odds, good always prevailed over the wicked," she mocked. "But what you so foolishly failed to realize, is that in reality, stories are written and told by the victors. And victors are not always good, are they? This time, _I_ will rewrite history. And will it be a tale for the ages!" she spat and straddled Emma's waist, her knee purposefully digging into the spilling wound of her abdomen.

"I will put your head on a pike … you, along with my daughter. Display them for all of humanity to witness. A symbol of my ruthlessness—my power. In one fell plunge of my blade, I will crush all the hope that remains within the hearts of the people of Thrice. You were their hope—their bringer of peace, and I single-handedly destroyed you, a young demigod and her beloved. A _tragedy_ for the ages. A story—lesson of what befalls those who oppose me!"

She stretched her arms high above her head, the point of the dagger aimed straight for her beating heart; a sinister smile twisted upon her face. Dark eyes gleaming with absolute delight.

Emma's breath was ragged in her chest, but her eyes never left Cora's. That was one sick pleasure she refused to give her. Knowing how Emma feared her—feared death. But just as Cora's back arched in preparation, a hollow thump sounded. Emma's eyes left hers for a second, and saw an encouraging sight: a sharp protrusion from her chest—the head of an arrow greeting her.

Cora's shocked expression flitted from Emma's eyes to the foreign object buried in her chest. The hand holding the dagger swung out as Cora fought to breathe.

Sensing her chance, and with all the remaining strength and energy she had, Emma sat up. She knocked the blade from Cora's grasp, and struck her hard in the face, causing her to lurch to the side.

She had the despicable woman at her mercy. The one source of pain—commonality for both Regina and herself. Of all the evils this sole woman has conceived and executed, Regina had always caught the brunt of it. Well, not anymore. It all would stop this day.

As the color slowly seeped from Cora's face and as her eyes dimmed, Emma chanced a glance at the only person who could have put an arrow through the evil woman's chest. Regina had since collapsed on the ground and she lay there unmoving.

With what little strength remained, Emma called a part of her she rarely ever willfully summoned. The darkness that would always reside inside reared its ugly head, much as it had done with the dungeon guard and with Henry: the last souls to face her wrath.

She gripped Cora's head at her temples and unleashed energy so intense, it ripped what life remained straight from her.

As Cora's body turned limp in her grasp, Emma pushed her to the side and she toppled over in a heavy thump. Long minutes passed as her body began to fail her. She stared up through hazy eyes at the intricate ceiling and stone work of the sanctum. Dust and debris lingered in the air as she breathed it in, breath after labored breath. Her eyes burned and threatened to close at each blink. She was past tired—beyond exhausted. The time for her battered body to finally rest was approaching fast. She just wanted it to be over. For the suffering to stop. Her head lolled to the side as Emma looked at her love's form once more. Warm tears spilt from her eyes as she was suddenly overcome with emotion. Regina hadn't deserve this fate, and by her own mother's hand, no less. Emma berated herself in anger. Some protector she had been.

"I failed you," she whispered to Regina's still body, which lay several feet away, her voice thick with saliva and blood. But her heart fluttered with a mix of emotions as she heard the softest sound and saw Regina's hand lift to the air. She had called Emma's name.

Emma, fantastically injured, crawled on her stomach, her damaged legs and arms couldn't even support her, over to an equally injured Regina.

"Regina?" she whispered, brushing dark hair from her face and eyes. Emma's lips trembled and she let out a sob when a cool hand cupped her cheek. Unable to hold the hand in her own, she leaned gently into the hand, turning her face so she could press a lingering kiss to it.

"We've really done it this time, aye?" Emma said quietly in her typical fashion. Trying to make light of things—ease their minds.

"Oh, Emma …"

She had nothing left in her. Emma knew if she used her touch—her energy to calm Regina, it would be over that much more quickly. But not one second—not one solitary thought, caused her to think otherwise. Her own wounds were too far gone, and while her pain shot through her body, she wouldn't tolerate the same for her love. She raised her hand and caressed a pale and bloody cheek. With a grimace from pain, she inched forward until her nose brushed against Regina's temple. She placed the softest of kisses right next to her ear before she whispered, "Close your eyes?"

She then allowed what energy was left of her to enter Regina. The scene was oddly reminiscent of their reunion. Emma could see the pain recede from her eyes. Her face becoming less tense and more relaxed as the seconds passed.

"Stay with me, all right … just please, stay with me," Emma begged as she also saw the light slowly leaving her.

"Em …"

"J—just, please … I don't wanna let you go. I finally found you."

Regina looked at her with those heart shattering eyes and attempted to smile, and Gods was it one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen. The way the natural sun light hit her from above gave the illusion of an angel from the heavens above. The moment between the two women became even more heartrending when Regina uttered her next words. "I'm not scared, not anymore."

"I always said I would protect you," she spoke, her voice tender and full of admiration for the woman beneath her. "I'm sorry I failed you. I'm so sorry."

Regina shook her head and gasped; her body tensing and eyes closing.

"Re—Regina, don't … look at me. Just … keep lookin' at me."

It took a few seconds for her breathing to steady and her eyes to open. "I'm not alone," she finally said. "I always feared I would be—that I'd … that I'd die a—lone. But—but I'm not … not any—more."

Tears spilt from Emma's eyes and landed on the pale flesh below. She kissed them away, refusing to let any contact between them go untouched. "I love you. I love you so much."

"Y—you are such a beautiful person, E—Emma Swan. Please always believe that, my love. And—and I … love you."

Emma leaned down for one last kiss, and in that moment, she swore she felt the life leave Regina in one final exhale. But she didn't open her eyes. Instead, she pinched them firmer together, afraid of what she might see should she open them. Nevertheless, white spots began to form behind her eyelids, and her body turned cold; a fine sheen of sweat developing over her heated skin.

This was it. The final few seconds of her life.

The last thing she heard was the sound of numerous footfalls racing down the corridor.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! And please review if you have the time. It is sincerely appreciated! :)  
**


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